House of L
by Fenschway
Summary: A crude drunk survives a bloody war's final battle that saves a slew of worlds from tyranny. Logan is a big hero. His reward? Blackmailed into running a sanitarium/prison/hospice for grief crazed super heroines and loony female mutant criminals while dodging angry ex-girlfriends, lonely, jealous X-women, and love starved, alien female warriors. Naturally, they all hate each other.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: The plot of this X-Men/Sekirei crossover piece will be a companion to and eventually run concurrent with **Starry Starry Nights**. The intent, however, is to also make them readable and enjoyable as their own stand alone stories. X-Men and Avengers are owned by Marvell LLC. Sekirei owned by Sakurako Gokurakuin.  
_

**The House of L**

**Prologue – Miya Asama – Tears of Irony**

A dark female figure, wearing a simple, rope belted and deeply hooded robe to look a lot like a medieval nun, stood in the long evening shadows of the Tokyo graveyard. Partially hidden behind a large stone mausoleum, the strange looking woman simply watched silently as Miya Asama knelt before her dead husband's grave and began praying, then soon pitifully weeping. The hooded onlooker brooded over the irony of the kneeling alien female, without question the most powerful female on Earth, mourning her still greatly beloved and greatly missed spouse.

The irony was because when it had really mattered, Miya's incredible powers, stronger than any of the 108 young Sekirei who had crashed on this planet with her, hadn't been able to prevent Miya's young human husband's untimely death in M.B.I.'s secret labs. Nor would Miya's unearthly powers help her save all she loved and cared about from the future deadly troubles that M.B.I. would surely bring upon them and this planet in only a few short years from now. The new troubles would be far beyond the battles that Miya had already fought and won, so would their potential for even deeper mourning.

Long moments passed as Miya's heartbroken sobs continued to sound softly throughout the lonely graveyard. The sun suddenly dipped below Tokyo's western skyline and caused a sudden, chilly, and very gloomy darkening of all the shadows cast by the various grave markers. Finally, after lovingly arranging a few fresh and homegrown flowers against her dead husband's gravestone, Miya Asama stood up and slowly made her way out of the graveyard, back towards her home at Izumo Inn. Still unseen and unnoticed by the deeply grieving alien widow, the strangely robed and hooded female, partially hidden by the large stone mausoleum, turned away. She seemed to simply melt back into the graveyard's darkest shadows as if she had never been, nor belonged there.

**Chapter One – Mystique and Emma Frost – Tears of Irony II**

Irony is such a funny sounding word, Raven Darkholme mused silently as the other immobilized and power constrained mutant prisoners were floated past her and locked into position around the perimeter of the Inter-Dimensional Protectorate's judgment chamber. She half smiled to herself in watching the varied expressions on the female captives' faces that she could see from shifting her eyes but not her rigidly held head. Some like Lady Deathstrike were still naturally defiant, angry, and evaluating non-existent escape possibilities. Others like Titania were pathetically resigned, dull eyed, and beaten. Many were simply La La Land insane and/or drugged with absolutely no light of understanding of who or what they were, let alone their rapidly approaching demise. A few like Emma Frost wore rigid poker faces determined not to give their captors one shred of satisfaction that any loss of control over their ultimate fates mattered one tiny whit. Raven saw none half amused as she was, but wasn't it absolutely ironical that some of her fellow female mutant inmates' expressions actually shared tiny gleams of hope that somehow they would be spared their imminent executions?

After all, irony, at least situational irony, by definition was an incongruity between the actual result of a sequence of events and the normal or expected result. Every prisoner present in I.D.P.'s judgment chamber had totally EARNED their capture and designation as a terminal threat to inter-dimensional peace, so why look for even the tiniest shred of hope for last minute mercy from I.D.P.'s judges? The simple fact was that The Raft prison was being crassly emptied of its too expensive to keep, too dangerous to live, and too wealthy without heirs inmates, and the I.D.P. needed money. Besides, all appeals had already been exhausted, otherwise none of the death row inmates would be here now. These final hearings were nothing more than a summary review to snooker the public news media into reporting that all the correct protocols had been followed before such a large number of death sentences were all carried out on the same day.

The great situational irony here was any of these already condemned mutant prisoners expecting a last minute reprieve from an I.D.P. summary review panel that included one James "Logan" Howlett, aka Wolverine, THE universally decorated and designated Hero of Earth 616. Logan was also now one of five High Councilors of the new Inter-Dimensional Protectorate that had been formed after his heroic final victory in the Annexation Wars on the Shadow Box Empire's home planet. Since the Fantastic Four had admitted to largely only being spectators, Logan was THE gritty hero of the vast battle that had also now made him one of the greatest serial killers and mass murderers in inter-dimensional history. There would be no sissy pants mercy for any condemned to death mutant criminals and unwanted troublemakers from him this day.

"And if looking to Logan for mercy isn't the definition of ironic," Raven murmured to herself in sneering amusement as she thought it over, "then what is?"

Raven scanned the small group of interested onlookers at the far end of chamber, idly eying a hooded and robed woman whose rope belted, dark green garb look like it belonged in some Dark Ages nunnery. Now who was she, and what was she doing here?

"Care to entertain the rest of us with a plebeian jest or two, darling?" Emma Frost, parked directly across and facing Raven, spoke softly with one patrician eyebrow raised. Frost's usually luxurious bottle blonde hair was lank, streaked with dark and gray roots, unwashed, and tangled. She was also dressed in the same depressing drab olive jumpsuit that the rest of the condemned prisoners wore. Emma then gave Raven a further look and soft sigh of mild distaste.

"Or could you possibly just reveal the source of your amusement in our current and soon to be terminated situation where quite frankly I see none?"

"Just viewing the total irony of it all, Emma dear," Raven chuckled quietly in return. "I doubt a naive youngster like you would appreciate the humor in much of it. Especially since you are almost the biggest joke here next to that block headed prick Logan sitting out there."

"Laughing in the face of imminent death seems rather gauche to me, not ironic, but, it seems I still have a few free moments left for furthering my already extensive education, so enlighten me, grandmother," Emma smirked at Mystique's snarky jibe as the panel of judges began their case by case reviews starting with the mutant male prisoners arranged on the other end of the large, lofty, tear drop shaped, glass enclosed chamber. "What is so ironic?"

"Oh my," Raven again laughed softly. "Where to start? Okay, historical. I was born and grew up when there were no electric power grids, appliances, lights, or electronic communication other than rudimentary telegraph. There were no means of travel faster than walking, horses, horse drawn carriages and wagons, ungainly steamships, and small locomotives. Few had the means for indoor plumbing, let alone ready access to clean running water that was mainly heated on wood stoves and open fireplaces.

"Look outside. Solar powered cars flying about the city on a worldwide anti-gravity grid. Every person on the planet fitted with their own totally integrated holistic communicator and computer access headbands. The entire planet living in levels of luxury, cleanliness, health, travel, and supply vast magnitudes above when I was born, and yet, the fears about and attitudes towards mutants are still exactly the same, chase, capture, and kill. Even the methods of execution are the same with heads chopped and bodies burned. Now isn't that a tad ironic?

"Or perhaps more personal, Emma dear. Here you are the self acknowledged maven of haute coture fashion and sexy revealing outfits, but you're going to die in a cheap and drab olive green jumpsuit. There will be no rescue for you from the world's most powerful males and past lovers like Namor or Tony Stark who would have become High Councilors if they had survived that final battle. You should have been screwing Logan instead of bloody Scott Summers who tried to kill you for your Phoenix power and then later dumped your enhanced white butt for Frenzy. Then he dies in such an ignominious way with nary a last word or thought for his telepathic ex-darling. All that right there is rather ironic isn't it?"

"Logan smells like a wart hog," Emma sighed dismissively. "Besides, other than a kinky thought or two, Logan has never given me a second look of sexual interest even when blind drunk. What small tolerance of me in his world and as a team member has never translated to any kind of trust, nor would some casual sex make him any fonder of me than he isn't now. Logan has never forgiven me for my enmity of Jean Grey, my activities when the Phoenix returned, nor my connections with the Hellfire Club. You are much more likely to get a reprieve from him than me."

"Me?" Raven chuckled slightly harder before her features turned into a half snarl of hatred. "Even if I've been in his bed, and that was a long time ago, he has already killed me twice by jamming those damn claws into me."

"So, you're still the charter member of Logan's exclusive claw stabbed and dick jabbed club," Emma smirked again at being able to get an emotional rise out of Mystique. "Let's see. Mariko Yashida, Carol Danvers, maybe Yukio, and now even Psylocke and Poison if current rumors are true. Pretty select company with you, don't you think, darling? Even Jean the poor dear isn't a member. That ought to count for something for you in his mind. Besides, all these years of your woman scorned, tit for tat revenge routines with Logan, aren't they getting a tad tiresome? Perhaps you two old geezers just need to call it all even and make a small restart."

"Way too late for that," Raven snorted derisively as her eyes slid sideways to watch a mass exodus towards a far exit.

It definitely looked like the I.D.P. had simply emptied Earth 616's The Raft prison to kill all of its most troublesome and wealthiest inmates. The new government must be EXTREMELY hungry for money to pay its Annexer War debts. She watched as one by one the heavily drugged Romulus, Kade Kilgore, "Bentley Newton" Rottwell, Sabertooth, Arcade, Norman Osborn, Lord Deathstrike, Sebastian Shaw, all twelve remaining male members of the vampire Mystikos and Forgiven Sects, three Mister Sinister clones from other dimensional Earths, and nine assorted mutant outlaws and bandits from across the Protectorate worlds went through the far executioner's exit. Next for all of them would come a plasma cutter beheading and/or wooden staking before their entire remains were summarily dumped down into the building's fusion generator in the basement. How convenient. Like taking out the trash every Tuesday to become fuel for the maglev power grids. No marker, no ashes, and no one to claim their huge estates except for sharp eyed I.D.P. accountants and lawyers.

Raven let out a heavy sigh. It wouldn't be long now before she and Emma shared the same fate along with the other females prisoners from The Raft. Well, they'd get no huge estate from her, damn their eyes! Time enough for one last well deserved dig into Miss Emma Frost's outsized ego though.

"By the way, Emma dear," Raven murmured as if it was an off hand aside. "Logan was a hell of a lot bigger, sweeter, inventive, and better in bed than Scott Summers, Tony Stark, Sebastian Shaw, and Namor. Much more tender in kissing and then pleasing a woman's sweetest AND wildest bestial fantasies, as well as going all night long with those regeneration powers of his. Isn't it ironic that both you AND Jean Grey missed out on all that multiple orgasmic hotness? But then, you would have come in a very poor second place in his mind there too, right darling?"

The instant jealous fury at being compared to Jean Grey silently flashed across Emma's facial features and made Raven chuckle again. Heh, she thought to herself, now that WAS amusing too. Well, you had a good run at life Raven old girl, with only a few regrets, the main ones being failed relationships with Marie and Kurt and final betrayal by Destiny. A long, deeply romantic love and a loving family just hadn't been there for one Raven Darkholme, nor triumph over humankind's anti mutant bigotry, let alone any kind of life of peace and acceptance amongst those humans and fellow mutants. On the other hand, she had experienced adventures only a few females throughout history had matched and survived. She would still be free today except for the advanced science and technology now making completely anonymous personal freedom a thing of the past, and face it, Raven Darkholme and her shape shifting mutant gifts were essentially an outdated anachronism now. Still, it was satisfying that she could break Emma Frost's icy reserve and piss her off. Heh, take your small victory, Raven mused darkly. It will probably be the last one.

At least it had been a nice sunny day to die, Raven thought, and an even prettier evening. She let her eyes focus on the brightly lit and colorful view of Shanghai and its harbor outside the Protectorate capital headquarters' massive glass walls. Entire sides of nearby skyscrapers were essentially video billboards hawking everything available in this ancient but now modern port city, some even projecting their wares in multicolored three dimensional holograms. Now that she thought about it, the impressive backdrop of the evening sky, the incredibly beautiful city skyline, and the panoramic metropolis/harbor view with its ever shifting array of fascinating colored lights filling the horizon beyond her final prison cell were actually beyond mind boggling; especially to a mutant female born by the weak light coming from a single whale oil lantern and a wood burning fireplace in a smoke filled, bug infested, dirty, and dank, one room log cabin.

How many years? How many memories? How many hopes and dreams, few achieved, many shattered, and/or not even half realized before crumbling away to nothing? How many battles that now felt so pointless and futile? How many failed love affairs and way too many meaningless one night romps? How many schemes for revenge against her enemies, most dead now anyway? What had it all mattered? What had she accomplished? She was going to die very soon with none to mourn her passing and no grave marker to acknowledge she had ever existed. Her only legacy was going to be a few uncomplimentary and definitely unflattering lines in the history of human/mutant conflicts. She had abandoned her own baby son Kurt to save her own life! For that alone she deserved the plasma decapitation and fusion immolation she was facing! Let alone trying to assassinate Logan the Hero again.

A loud commotion broke into Raven's mixed, progressively gloomier, and now self damning thoughts. Naturally, it was centered around Logan. Raven strained to hear and make sense of what the cacophony of arguing voices were saying. Something about a new experimental procedure developed by the Shi'ar for replacing damaged/dead tissues on the molecular level and regrowing them into exact healthy copies. Ahhh, it was the other four High Councilors reminding Logan the Hero that the new Protectorate laws demanded all vampires to be permanently eliminated, even Jubilation Lee. Now wasn't THAT ironic, Raven smiled grimly while watching Logan get progressively angrier and even beginning to snarl. That's the way, you mindless little baboon, Raven urged in silent glee. Cut loose and get your head chopped too! Wouldn't that be even more sweetly ironic!

A sudden silence gripped the cavernous chamber. Raven came out of her quick daydream of picturing Logan's violent demise to see a small frown of concentration on Emma Frost's features.

"What happened?" Raven finally whispered to Emma as the long silence continued.

"Logan asked to have most of the death sentences for the terminally ill and insane mutant females here to be commuted. Other than Remus, none of us have any money anyway, and he thinks the I.D.P needs to show itself as being better, more just, and more merciful to the people AND mutants on all its worlds rather than just be a marginally better substitute of the ruthless Shadow Box Empire. He wants the prisoners released into his care and also have Jubilee participate in the new Shi'ar regrowth/healing experiments. The other Councilors said no because of the potential for great destruction and loss of life upon any escape, unless he could reimburse the I.D.P. if and when something went wrong. Logan reminded everyone that he is the sole heir of Tony Stark Industries, the Worthington Conglomerate, and Charles Xavier's private estate. They immediately reversed themselves after demanding that he build an ultra secure facility to house the entire enterprise. The other four Councilors also demanded that he post at least half of the remainder of his fortune into the I.D.P. general fund as bond for all the inmates good behavior and Jubilee's during her Shi'ar treatments as well. The other half of Logan's fortune will be put into an escrow account for operational expenses because the I.D.P. demands zero financial responsibility for this strictly private enterprise. If he wants her to live, Remus will also have to sign over her entire fortune to the I.D.P. and undergo psychotherapy for permanent institutionalization with the other females spared. They also insisted that Logan resign the High Council and then pick which female mutants would be in the new facility so that the I.D.P. would not be liable for any public and financial backlash. Logan agreed and then resigned. In short, he basically just gave away everything he has to save Jubilee."

Raven silently digested this for a few moments and then mentally shrugged. All that only meant Logan was still going to kill her tonight without getting his freaking long claws bloody. On the other hand, Emma Frost might be able to appeal to any residual loyalty Logan may have for her as a once X-teammate.

"Well, there you go, Emma. You can easily qualify for Logan's insanity reprieve. I mean, look how long you tried to hang onto Scott Summers and never got anything near the loyalty Logan gives to those he really cares about. Especially after Scott tried to kill you for your share of the Phoenix Force. I'd definitely call that insane on your part. Hell, Logan still visits and lays flowers on the graves of Mariko, Silverfox, and Jean Grey every spring after all these years. After you guys escaped and before you were recaptured the last time, did Scott even send you a birthday card after he dumped you and started banging Frenzy again?"

"Scott is dead. What we had together was far beyond anything you ever managed to experience, you ancient hag," Emma replied in a flat, bitchy, fed up tone. "And I had more loyalty and love from him than you ever did from your last "true lover" Sabertooth while using each other as convenient bedroom toys. After his assassination empire was broken, Victor ran, and you were captured, right? He simply abandoned you to cover his escape and then made a beeline to Remus and her money, blackmailing her to help him elude the I.D.P. That failed when she turned him, but he snitched about her trying to hide all of her and Romulus' old financial empire so that it wouldn't be taxed and bled dry by the I.D.P.'s war machine. What did all that scheming and double crossing get you three? They both wound up in here with you today. Remus had a real shot at happiness with Logan and blew it to chase after a bigger fortune that was always going to be taken away sooner or later. She blew it just like you did ages ago. And you boast about your sagacity from your lofty old age? I'm really beginning to doubt your claims of romantic superiority too, darling. Tell me. Why didn't YOU hold onto Logan all those years ago when you had him? After all, he was your admitted best lover, right?"

Raven had no answer. That last had struck much too close to old heart scars. A long silence ensued between the two female mutants as they both licked their mutual emotionally inflicted wounds. Emma began thinking about how ironic it had been for her to first publicly declare her love for Scott Summers while being held in a brotherly and comforting fashion by Logan. That was as physically and emotionally close to Logan as she had ever been, but ever colder since. Why hadn't she worked harder to be much better friends with essentially the only completely honest and caring male she had ever known? Now she was pretty sure Logan would let her die rather than save her. Raven was reliving her ultimately stupid rage of betrayal when she had kicked Logan off a moving freight car outside 1921 Kansas City. She had known before the botched bank robbery that Logan was way too honest at heart to go through with the heist and wouldn't allow his actions to hurt innocent humans if he could help it. If she had just curbed her temper then, apologized, and been more understanding of his feelings, would they have still become ongoing enemies ever since or much closer lovers?

Cutting through both females' thoughts, there came a sudden loud scream of rage followed by a separate long wail of despair from somewhere to their far left. A loud physical commotion broke out also. Since they couldn't turn their heads, both Raven and Emma had to wait before seeing a few uniformed guards holding down the chair-like module of Lady Deathstrike. Then facially scarred Sapphire Styx, the Madam Hydra named Contessa Valentina Allegra de la Fontaine, both of Earth 616, and three mind wiped and drooling Madelyn Prior clones from some failed Sinister other world takeover plot came into view. The group of mutant females were all being led/wrestled towards the executioner's exit amidst more wails of despair and angry screams of insane rage. Obviously Logan had declined to allow them into his new Shi'ar enhanced institution for life imprisonment.

As Raven and Emma strained to look sideways to see what else was happening, immobilized female mutants in their seated restraining modules began anti-gravity floating past them towards their original entrance. Those understanding that somehow they had been reprieved, most notably Martinique Wyngarde, her sister Regan, and the new pauper Remus had tears of relief flowing down their cheeks. Titania, Typhoid Mary, Chimera, Ophelia Sarkissian, and Red She Hulk just stared insanely at nothing, and Jubilation Lee looked too drugged to even know where or who she was. Suddenly, Logan was standing in front of Raven and Emma.

Raven's eyes flicked down and up over Logan who was carrying something flat in his right hand down by his thigh. He was wearing his skin tight, red and black I.D.P. uniform that outlined every line on his massively muscled frame. Overall he looked his usual confident self. However, his face, for once shaved smooth except for narrow sideburns, seemed thinner, care worn, and grave. He looked much the same as when she had first met him in front of that Mexican firing squad more than a century earlier, although he was now much cleaner and smelling faintly of an interesting yet mild, musk scented leather. Then he had been emotionally wrestling with the bloody trench fighting horrors of WW I and his participation and survival of them. The main difference now was in the new and very bleak frigidity within his normally expressive deep blue eyes. It was as if a large piece of his soul had been irrevocably lost somewhere. He turned to look dead eyed at Emma.

"You want to live, Frost?" Logan asked bluntly. "If you do, you'll be in a prison with that power suppression ring always around your neck until you die, no telepathy, no diamond form. Try to leave the prison boundaries, and it will explode and blow your head off."

"Sounds tedious," Emma returned coolly with no facial expression. "You're actually going to take the responsibility and care for I.D.P.'s headaches just to get a very slim chance to save Jubilee?"

"Yeah," Logan shrugged with a slightly pained expression. "It was a setup. They already had the damn plans drawn up for a place called the Hospice Overseeing Uncommon Security Enterprises. Then they blackmailed me into building and running it, or they'd have staked Jubes and then burnt her. I don't like it, but there wasn't any other way."

"Is that what we are now? Not stinking muties but just uncommon security enterprises?" Emma raised her right eyebrow in long weary disdain. "No shrinks, no brain wiping, drooling, and rebuilding? No in depth probing for why we committed such nefarious crimes deserving capital punishment in this oh so cozy dimensional new order? No Shi'ar personality modifications?"

"Might happen, who knows? I only know they've already lined up a crack medical staff that includes Hank McCoy and Cecelia Reyes, along with several alien regeneration and psychotherapy geniuses from S.W.O.R.D. and eggheads from Nick Fury's secret clinic. That's all because I.D.P. now has female Avengers that need confined care too. Danvers, She Hulk, Wasp, Wanda, and Jessica all went nuts when Rogers, Stark, Hawkeye, Hulk, and Pym were killed, but the I.D.P. can't just imprison those Avenger gals, let alone just kill 'em. Public wouldn't stand for it. Can't let 'em run loose either, so they've made me their patsy while Thor and Falcon try to rebuild the Avengers. When this HOUSE gig gets up and running, I got no idea what other nut jobs and serious problems they'll send at me later. I don't really care since my designated killer days for everybody and their damn uncles are over.

"The big stink below all this is that these current greedy I.D.P. bastards really just wanted to get their mitts on as much of Stark, Xavier, and Warren's money as they could. They also knew I was dead set against outright killing most of you female inmates and especially Jubilee. So, it looks like I'm gonna need a financial whiz to operate the whole mess once it gets built. Emma, you can live, have the job, watch some soap operas, wash your hair, dye it, do your nails, wear your underwear as clothes, maybe even finish your naughty, sexy, bitchy memoirs and your textbook on ethics as well, but it's always gonna be a prison. You got one chance to live here this evening. It's up to you."

"How did Scott and all the others die, Logan?" Emma finally asked softly after a few moments of silence. "And only you, a bunch of Avenger females and kids, and the Fantastic Four survive?"

"There were two planetary targets. Steve Rogers divided us up, and sent the gals and kids to attack the weaker second fortress. It was also Cap who gave Scott a parole to fight along with the other Avengers and X-Men at the bigger Annexer complex. During that last battle after we had breached the fortress force field and walls, they were all with Stark and Rogers on the west side of the Annexers' main command and launch center. They were trying to kill the Sentinels standing among all the women and children that had been brought out of the planet's breeding pens and were being used for human shields against our assault. I was on the east side with Hulk, Fantastic Four, and some X-Men from Earth 47's Protectorate Council. Reed Richard's instruments indicated the Annexers were all set to launch another 100 megaton bomb through their last Shadow Box into Earth 47. Cap ordered me to take it out. Hulk threw me at the launch center, over the Sentinels and civilians, but I went clear through the damn place and out the other side. The big dummy had thrown me way too hard, and then he followed up with Earth 47's X-Men.

"The Annexers must have panicked after I sailed through, and they saw Hulk and the boys coming too. Some one must have backed into or accidentally hit a destruct button or just screwed up somehow because in less than a minute their damn bomb exploded before it launched. It totally wiped out everything and everyone for a seventy five mile radius. Shock wave caught me in the air, but since I was out a ways and already going very fast in the same direction, I must have surfed it long enough not to get totally immolated in the fireball. As it was, healing factor kicked in, and I woke up almost a hundred miles out four days later, but I was still in very bad shape.

"Sue Storm was able to shield protect her guys on the east side. Everyone else was ashes; Scott, Peter, Remy, Bobby, Eric, Arthur, Alex, some of my academy kids, guys from Earth 47, Cap and his Avengers, Hulk, and four million plus innocent women and children. Danvers and the other Avenger gals and the new Avenger kids were on the other side of the planet and mopping up the Annexer's secondary base that was trying to wipe out Earth 616. Their infrared scanners found me after they neutralized that second site and started searching for survivors, and then they brought me home. Hank finished patching me up. I didn't touch one damn Annexer commander in that last battle. Some hero, huh? Scott died being Scott, still trying to do right, giving it all he had, but just fighting on the wrong damn side of the whole mess with the others. His luck wasn't any better than Longshot and Gambit's in the end, nor Rogers or Stark's and all the others. That's how they all died."

Logan, after taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly as a small sign of his own ongoing grief, cocked his head and eyed Emma. Slow tears went unchecked down her cheeks since her wrists and elbows were locked onto the arms of her floating, chair-like immobilization module. Inanely, he tried to remember the last time he'd seen her cry, but couldn't. It had been a year and a half since that damned screwed up battle, lots of time to cry for all the dead. Problem was he still needed her answer right now for those still living. He gave her several long moments before asking again.

"You want to live, Emma?"

"You call imprisoned in your HOUSE for the rest of my life while dyeing my gray hair, living? Cut off from everyone and everything?"

"No, not really," Logan sighed while shaking his head slowly and then wearily rubbing his forehead with his empty left hand, "but then there's different kinds of prisons for life, Emma. You know that. Don't need solid walls to be totally miserable in 'em either, and no way out except dying. Besides, where would you go even if you were free? No school would touch you to teach, no money and little ability to make any, no Hellfire Club to take you in. You could at least live pretty cushy in the HOUSE. Think about it."

Logan turned to look at Raven Darkholme. She didn't look any older than the night when she had first kissed him and then tried to use him to steal a fortune the next day more than a century ago. Her inscrutable yellow eyes were simply staring back at him. There was no expression on her face until he raised his right hand. He was holding a small mirror which he shoved close to her face.

"What do you see here, Old Timer?" Logan's low voice had a very gruff tone, not encouraging at all.

The shock of suddenly and unexpectedly seeing her own facial image rattled Raven and brought quick tears to her eyes. Damn him! He was using the same trick Forge had used to upset her once! Looking at her true self was something she had passionately avoided ever since waking one morning during her first menstrual period as a budding adolescent to find she had changed over night. When her wild mutation had revealed itself, the shock of suddenly having blue skin and yellow eyes had instantly marked her as a devil spawned, possessed, and suddenly outcast freak to everyone she had loved and known. Their immediate vicious and inflamed intolerance had made her run for her life. She had been running away from that image ever since. Still, she was NOT going to give Logan the satisfaction of seeing her upset in any way. She wouldn't cry. Not now. Not after all he had done to her.

"I see Mystique," Raven returned evenly. Curiously, she caught herself wondering if he had felt any fondness for her at all when they had first met. "What do you see, Logan? The same blue skinned, red haired, yellow eyed, mysterious female freak you back stabbed in Kansas City? Want to kill me again, you prick?"

"My killing days are over, Raven. You want to die, do it yourself. Anyway, you ain't ever been a mystery to me," Logan gave a small mirthless chuckle, "just a totally self centered, scheming, and amoral bitch trying to use me for her own gain from the get go. Been trying to screw me over and kill me ever since. That's all past now, maybe not totally square for either of us, but it's a much different world we live in now, Old Timer, one where personal vendettas ain't gonna be tolerated much by these money hungry I.D.P. guys. Things change whether we want 'em or not. To answer your question though, what I see now is the head Administrator of I.D.P.'s new HOUSE."

"Yeah, right, and why would I want to be?" Raven scowled at the thought of being cooped up for a long, long time anywhere near this cold, arrogant, and insufferable Logan. There was just too much bad history between them, way too bad, way too much.

There was a sudden slight movement against the lighted city's skyline far behind him that caught Raven's eye. Curiously, she noticed that the mysterious hooded and green robed woman standing across the glass walled I.D.P. chamber now seemed to be looking in Raven and Emma's direction. The hood of her green garb still completely shrouded the strange woman's face though. Raven frowned. Now who in the hell was that? What was she interested in and doing here? Raven looked back at Logan as he began answering her spoken question.

"One, you'd be alive, Old Timer. Two, since I'm technically still an Avenger, I probably won't be around much to do any head administrative job justice. Three, you can't be trusted for anything other than maybe trying to protect helpless mutants and females like you have a lot of times in the past, but you can be trusted to save your own skin while living in as much luxury as you can get. Four, you're one of the toughest old dames I know, behind Natasha and Elektra maybe, and I suspect running the HOUSE is gonna take someone like you to do it. Five, it'll keep you from getting bored and causing more trouble than you're worth, which quite frankly would get your head chopped pretty damn quick now days. Six, you owe Kurt a LOT of love for others, big time. And seven, you'll get a freaky kick out of being the warden of your own damn prison."

Logan stared deadpan at Raven for a few seconds before looking again at Emma. Another long silence went by until Logan finally broke it.

"So which way you two want to go? Over to the executioner's exit, or out the door you came in to become the administrative and financial staff of the new HOUSE?"

"I'll work with you, Logan, despite your low recruitment charm skills," Emma Frost finally sighed in resignation, her eyes still bright with her tears for Scott Summers. "But I want better clothes and a giant hot tub in my quarters."

Logan nodded slightly in acceptance before looking back into Raven's yellow eyes. He raised his eyebrows in silent question.

"Me? Running the HOUSE of Logan, with Logan?" Raven chuckled somewhat self mockingly while oddly noticing the hooded woman had suddenly and simply disappeared from the judgment chamber. "Well, what the hell, why not? Beats getting chopped and fried, for now, but Logan, you and me working together in anything after all these damn years sure puts a whole new meaning into the word irony. By the way, I don't believe you about not killing any more, and before you ever get the chance to stab me again, screw you, you hypocritical asshole."

_More regular updates to this story and Starry Starry Nights will begin after the last chapters of the Game Changer are posted. Thanks for reading and let me know what you all think._


	2. Chapter 2

**House of L**

**Chapter 2 – Logan - Molson Man**

Logan, carrying a six pack of canned Molson beer and a large, black leather brief case, trudged down a depressing city street. He was slowly making his way towards a century old and dilapidated brick office building that had been painted white decades ago and never retouched since. The briefcase in his right hand was nothing special, but full, ready for the interview he hoped would go well. The beer in his left was a good old, every day, bottom fermented lager, 5 percent alcohol, cheap to make, good for a decent buzz if chugged fast enough, and even better bought in bulk for a nice, memory stifling, hedonistic bender; something a true Molson man knew all about.

Logan's Molson was the kind of cheap brew usually consumed by average low life pub crawlers, drunks, and unkempt roughnecks in seedy saloons, working man taverns, rough and tumble honkytonks, bike gang roadhouses, and illegal fight clubs everywhere across upper North America. Drink enough of it fast enough, and it could get a fella in one helluva fight, or hot laid, or both before closing time. Logan loved the stuff. Matter of fact, he'd had been a Molson man for as long as he could remember, at least a century or more. It was perfect for Monday night hockey games, just as good for the Thursday all night popcorn and stud poker parties, and every other day and night non occasion too. He was hoping this particular six pack might make the upcoming job interview go better than what he feared, but he was a tad worried and had been constantly second guessing his style for the approach. Oh well, what the hell. This was the best he could think of, and it was too late to turn back now. If a friendly beer or two couldn't get her to talk to him, he'd just have to improvise somehow.

The look and air of the rundown, unkempt, vine covered, five story commercial structure that he as headed for was one of an old building way past its prime and just barely surviving the worst ravages of time and despair. Now it was prime prey for the same dreary physical and social forces that had befallen this whole sad looking and trash strewn side street in Old Manhattan. Even the long shadows of the autumn evening's setting sun hadn't softened the building's dismal looking, paint chipped, and crumbling bricks. Nor was the slight evening breeze thinning out the bad smells of the street, nor those being exhaled through warped window and door frame cracks from the building's interior. New York after the Shadowbox Wars ended was a pretty far come down from the world's more prosperous and more technologically advanced cities; Shanghai, Tokyo, Mumbai, Seattle, Berne, and Abu Dhabi. The Dried Apple was downright freaking dangerous to stroll around in nowadays too.

Everything in his cautious and roundabout walking approach from his vehicle parked in a security guarded parking garage twenty blocks away was combining to assault Logan's feral senses in a very bad way. This dump, the whole street really, was old, cold, dirty, and smelled like Eau de Sewer with a side essence of rotting meat mixed with a gagging tint of very stale, noxious body odor. Logan grimaced as he paused at the office building's front entrance. Why would she want to work here in a place like this, and probably live somewhere close by, especially with a little kid? It didn't make any sense. She had been much too famous before the Shadowbox Wars to think she could just slip away unnoticed from the Avenger's Mansion and resume her old life, especially now with a potentially very powerful mutant daughter in tow.

Why had she left the protection of her old teammates and their much more secure headquarters? Better yet, why hadn't she come to him for refuge at the Jean Grey Academy in Westchester? There were even more comprehensive and Shi'ar enhanced security measures in place there; let alone a much larger group of battle experienced and powerful female mutants that would be willing to protect her and her kid. There was even the living and highly territorial Krakoa grounds the place was built upon. So why had she run away to hide here? It was much too dangerous and smelled awful.

He stood in the building's shadows for several long minutes, glancing around carefully, reaching out with his psionic senses, and sniffing the air to once again make sure he hadn't been followed. Odd. Other than a couple of unusually unafraid rats rooting through a ripped open plastic garbage bag halfway down the block, an old, tiger striped tomcat stalking them, and one black, limping, half starved mutt too feeble to go after the rats or the cat, there wasn't any other signs of life, especially human. No loiterers, no moving cars, no bikers, pedestrians, bums, beggars, whores, peddlers, feral kids, no one. Street lights and traffic signals hadn't worked in years, but there were also no lights or even candles in any windows either as if the old war blackout curtains were still being used out of habit. Not that the black curtains had worked anyway when the enemy's electromagnetic pulse bombs had cut power to the whole east coast several years ago. It was as if some weird and dispirited entity lingering from that bombardment had decided this gloomy evening on this particular ghetto block should look utterly grim, stark, and lifeless again. Yet Logan knew it wasn't and couldn't be without life, and couldn't shake the feeling that something or someone or maybe even some group was lurking in the shadows; watching, evaluating, maybe even planning.

Then again, a lot of Old Manhattan looked and felt like this these days. The wars against the Shadowbox Empire had killed a lot more than just those armies and heroes fighting on what had finally become almost totally devastated, enemy planets. The Protectorate's home fronts had suffered greatly above the occasional orbital attacks too; experiencing heavy casualties on the battle fronts that had shattered families, crippled economies, stripped resources, and brought eventual low morale even though the Protectorate's confederation of planets had finally emerged from the wars nominally victorious. There was always a great cost in all out wars; especially in Earth 616's old cities that were still battling back to normalcy while riddled with half empty, run down neighborhoods now sick with anti-mutant mobs, crushing poverty, and rival gangs constantly competing in turf and drug wars. Things were slowly starting to recover on a planet wide basis, but still, for her chosen hideout this building and the street it was on didn't forecast a particularly happy start for recruiting the cynical, tough, and very unhappy widow inside and upstairs. Maybe, Logan thought gloomily, he should have brought more beer, a case at least.

Snikt! Using one long metal claw extending from his right knuckles to slice the front entrance bolt lock open, Logan followed her scent, turned left once inside, noiselessly went through the stairwell door, and began warily climbing one cautious step at a time. The place felt empty, yet he didn't want the slightest echo or whisper of sound to mark his progress upward. He paused at the stairway's third landing as his nose confirmed that this was the floor that he wanted. Except for low, muffled sounds coming from somewhere at the far end of the floor's hallway, he heard and smelled no other signs of life. That seemed very odd in such a big building too.

Where was everybody? Pausing just before the few doors lining either side of the hallway as he went, he listened carefully with every sense alert and eyes darting about to catch any sudden and possibly hostile movements. Nothing. Had everyone gone home early or something? Maybe a holiday he didn't know about? When satisfied she and her young daughter were the floor's only occupant, he followed her strengthening scent through the half gloom of the long empty hallway. The dim light from the setting sun filtering through the end window's dirt caked glass made the hall's checkerboard black and white tile flooring look more like dingy gray and darker scuffed gray. Still glancing uneasily around, he stopped before her office door.

Logan took a deep breath, once again testing the air and also making himself focus on the calm core of his psychic center for the task ahead. He had meditated deeply to stay calm and keep his temper before coming, and it was good that he had. There was a very protective, uptight momma and her cub inside, a momma who was extremely fearful, probably still grief stricken, and maybe not very rational since she had run away and hid from everyone who cared about her and her daughter. She still smelled really good, just like the first time they had unhappily met when she had been pregnant and looking for her wounded boyfriend after he had been kidnapped by Nick Fury's agents. She hadn't been very friendly nor favorably impressed meeting Logan at the time though. Then again, since he had shoved his claws close to her throat in drunken anger, she had never really liked him much afterward either, if at all.

Man, Logan mentally sighed, the probabilities of this going well were really small, but everything from his own gut instincts, recommendations from her Avenger friends, and what he had known about her from years before told him she was the best person for the crap job he needed filled. Everyone, even her dead husband, had said she could absolutely be counted on to do the right thing when crunch time came and that she flat out cared for people no matter who or what they were, especially women and kids. The House of L was going to need those traits from her, and a lot more. He just wished he had a better plan to get her to take the job than merely offering her some Molson Beer, a better place to stay, and cash.

Logan studied the half frosted glass doorway simply marked SoHo Investigations in simple black and block letters. So this was the old SoHo District? No wonder it smelled so bad. It had smelled pretty much the same back in the good old X-Men days when he had once fought Genoshian Sentinels here with the Elf, Storm, Rogue, and Colossus. Well, the bad old days actually, since that era and their efforts had all proved so futile, bloody, and pointless in the long haul. His life probably would have been a lot better if he could have retreated alone back to his Canadian Rocky Mountain cabin and just stayed there forever with Silverfox's grave. That would have been a helluva lot better than the constant fighting, dying, and non stop grief that had been his lot since. And he was as lonely now as he had ever been while living amongst people, so a living alone in the mountains, why not?

Right, Logan sneered inwardly at his wishful thought of a lifelong mountain wilderness hermitage. Like everyone and their brother as well as their competing organizations and armies would have left him alone, to say nothing of the Sabertooths as well as Charles Xaviers of the world. Well, they were both dead now, evil and good, the I.D.P. was in iron control, and he probably would be gone soon too, so what did it really matter? He still had one last job to do.

Shaking himself out of his sudden gloomy reverie, Logan could hear that her young daughter was playing some kind of educational computer game for mathematics that had a lot of happy background sounds. He took another deep breath. Remain cool, you dumb shit. Keep in mind the kid's mom ain't gonna be happy to see you at all, and probably not all that sane either. Hope the red licorice gig works.

On yeah, Logan stopped himself. There was no reason to piss a former smoking mom off who had quit the habit cold turkey to keep her daughter from being harmed by second hand smoke; if there really was such a thing. Never proven despite all the decades of research and taxpayer money being thrown at it, that old saw was probably just an ever ongoing scam to steal research money from government grants and keep the researchers in a cushy job, but what the hell did he really care? No need to risk that anger from her. Logan snubbed out the glowing ash of his half smoked cigar on his left boot heel before jamming the cold butt back into the right side of his mouth.

Shifting his six pack of beer and large briefcase to his off hand, he finally pushed the quaint, black plastic buzzer button on the warped door sill just above and to the right of the door's badly tarnished doorknob. He glanced up at the small security camera lens above the door to make sure she could clearly his clean shaven face in the gloomy hallway. He had gotten a haircut to look as civilized and non threatening as possible too. Hopefully all that would help him gain entrance now. After a very, very long delay, a click of the long outdated electric lock in conjunction with another prolonged buzz let him enter her office hideaway.

Mrs. Jessica Jones-Cage, dressed in a simple, dark brown, long sleeved, and baggy cotton pullover shirt and faded, loose fitting blue jeans, sat behind her office desk with both arms folded tensely and defensively across her chest. She was also wearing a decidedly mixed facial expression that was rapidly vacillating between, extreme wariness, total disgust, barely checked anger, deep suspicion, and fearful revulsion. He had hoped for mildly sneering distaste, guarded curiosity, and maybe even a tiny hint of welcome, but no. Not happy to see him at all. He didn't blame her since he had potentially blown her hideout's location by tracking her down and showing up unannounced. Logan sighed internally again as he stopped just past the arc of her office door automatically closing behind him. He silently held up his six pack of Molson beer as sort of a combo peace offering and friendly chat inducer. She simply stared at him with narrowing eyes and thinned lips that were starting to make a teeth clenched snarl. She also did not put aside the papers and files she had been working on to make room on her desk for the six pack. Nope. Not going to start off smooth at all. Well, at least he could drink a couple to keep calm. He was probably going to need them.

A loud squeal of little girl delight interrupted their brief mutual stare down as Logan was literally tackled around his lower legs by a bright eyed munchkin flying across the room at knee level. Her impact made him shift awkwardly just to keep his balance. His little attacker dressed only in pink flannel pajamas and matching socks didn't even flinch from her hard contact with his muscle covered Adamantium skeleton. Damn! The little kid was STRONG! And TOUGH! Momma, however, was even more unhappy with this.

"Danielle!"

"Unca Logan! You came! You came just like my friend the Green Lady said you would!" The little girl squealed again as she ignored her mother's snapped out yell and jerked herself up using small bunches of his jeans and then his worn, black leather jacket and black t-shirt as climbing pitons for her clasping little fingers. When she reached his chest, he stooped a little and braced his arm under her little butt to hoist her happily beaming face next to his. Who in the hell was the Green Lady?

"Whatcha bring me this time, Unca Logan? Red Twists?" The girl's big brown eyes were simply sparkling with pleasure at being held by the softest male touch for candy that she had ever known in her young life.

"Danielle!" Jessica snapped out angrily again, but she might just as well have rebuked the autumn sun for setting for all the impression it was making on her cooing daughter. Mentioning this fictional friend the Green Lady once more was very upsetting to Jessica too. Danielle had always claimed her frequent make believe visitor watched over her and her mommy at night to keep them safe from monsters, had taught her how to fly, how to float, how to listen to the birds and flowers and trees sing, and especially how to see the pretty flowers growing in people's hearts. The fact that Danielle had claimed for some time that Logan's heart flowers were the prettiest of anyone's except her Mommy's was vastly disconcerting too. On the other hand, their lonely lifestyle since Luke had been killed in the War had to be pretty stressful for a young girl who needed friends, even imaginary ones.

"I DO see Red Twists, Unca Logan! For me, right? Just like the Green Lady said you'd bring!" Danielle Cage smirked knowingly with her right eyebrow raised at a slightly amused but trying not to show it Logan. She promptly reached inside his jacket's right side interior pocket to yank out the slim, clear plastic pack of twisted, strawberry flavored licorice. Her soft, curly, dark brown hair smelling like apple flavored shampoo tickled his nostrils as she leaned down to retrieve her candy prize. He wrinkled his nose to keep from sneezing. Now how in the hell had this screwy Green Lady known he would specifically bring Red Twists? Weird. He mentally shrugged in acceptance. Kids had their own ways of dealing with, seeing, and explaining their world, especially highly gifted and psychic ones like Danielle.

"Yes, they're for you, Dani babe," Logan's deep voice rumbled while he carefully made sure not to meet Jessica's now absolutely fuming eyes. "But only if your Momma says so, and then you let me talk business with her for a few minutes, okay?"

It only took a silent, over the shoulder, quick questioning, but also daring to refuse his gift look from Dani to make Jessica instantly capitulate with a sigh of aggrieved disgust. If the Green Lady had said Red Twists for Danielle were coming via Logan, then who was she to make the Green Lady a liar and destroy her daughter's faith in her invisible play friend?

"OH All RIGHT! But you WILL finish your math lesson now, Danielle, got it?"

"Yes, Momma," Dani turned all sugary meek in an instant before giving Logan a quick smooch on his left cheek and whispering, "You're the BEST, Unca Logan! And remember! I'm STILL gonna marry ya when I grow up!"

With that, little Danielle Cage launched herself out of Logan's embrace to fly over to and then hover in mid air before her home school computer, contentedly ripping the strawberry licorice package open, tilting her head back, and letting one red twist droop into her mouth for a big chewy bite.

Logan winced slightly as his eyes came back to look at Jessica's. There had been no ice breaking brownie points won with the kid licorice gig at all. Less than the beer offered. Damn. If anything, it had made Jessica's non welcome even less non.

"We were just getting ready to go back to our apartment and eat. You've got one damn minute, Logan," Jessica almost hissed the last in a decidedly curt and angry tone, "to tell me why the world's most homicidal mutant sonofabitch with indestructible and retractable claws is doing here in my office and now exposing us to God knows what nuts are following you around! Especially since said murdering sonofabitch has been TOLD repeatedly to leave me AND my daughter the hell alone! We don't need your troubles! Nor your damn I.D.P. bullshit either! You bastards and your phony ass war killed my Luke! You and those two faced, back stabbing Avengers talked him into fighting, Logan! You know you did! I'll never forgive you for that! None of you! NEVER! And don't you EVER try to use Dani on me again, you, you, you sick, rotten, b, b, b...!"

As Jessica sputtered into incoherent, long held grief, and blame fueled rage, Logan silently shook his head in long suffering while rolling his eyes up at the cracked and peeling paint on the sagging office ceiling.

Here it comes again. All he had heard since his return. The old my Johnny died and why didn't you blame game. Why the hell did you have to live while much better men and true super heroes died, you lousy, grade B prick? Just because you got lucky and have such damn good healing powers? Why should you get so filthy rich after crawling over their dead bones and ashes to inherit everything? Where was justice? How do you even live with yourself? Yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah. Heard it from still grieving war widows a hundred times before, if not more. If they hadn't actually said it, their accusing eyes had shown it. Why should Jessica Cage be any different? Luke, a truly good man and a true hero, had died fighting. Logan, the stupid asshole inadvertently triggering the massive nuclear blast that had killed so many, including Luke Cage, had lived. No one really cared or said they were glad that Logan had come back alive either. Still hadn't. Time to try the cash thing since the sharing a friendly beer gig hadn't worked.

Logan, carefully sweeping Jessica's paperwork aside, quietly laid his briefcase on her desk, pulled up a chair, sat down, yanked a beer can out of it's plastic case wrap, popped the top, and took a big swig for his own nerves. He yanked another can out and set it on the desk in front of Jessica who was staring at him in hard jawed silence, waiting. The beer was worth another try. Her fists were balled in front of her as she trembled in anger, ready to launch and pummel his brains out except for being held in motherly check by Dani happily zooming her avatar around and through a computerized maze of math problems. Still, he had to get both of them out of here and back to safety as well as get her to take the job.

"A hundred thousand a year plus all expenses paid," Logan announced calmly while seeming to study the small print on his beer can's label for a few seconds before continuing. He was actually floundering around mentally for what to say next. Don't cuss, you dumb bastard, he reminded himself. Don't blow this and cuss in front of the kid. And remember, for Pete's sake don't call her Darlin'! He had gotten all the grief out of that seemingly harmless social endearment from an angry Kitty Pryde when he had returned from the Wars and gotten books of proper English elocution and decorous social manners bounced off his skull. Sure she had been upset over Bobby Drake's war death, but what the hell? He had called gals Darlin' forever, and nobody had ever complained about him denigrating all womanhood with it before. Then Pryde had thrown a big snit. Women. Who knew? He had never been that great at understanding women. Well, he did know women loved shopping, makeovers, and what else? Oh yeah, security. He had read that somewhere, love and security are very important for women, even Kitty Pryde, right?

"Also paid medical insurance, uhhh, Jessica, free room and board in your own private quarters inside a high security building, no utility payments, paid tuition and transport to and from a highly secured private school for Dani, company car with unlimited miles although there won't be much travel involved. No uniform work either, very low profile, but round the clock security guards and assistants. I need a female private detective and life consultant with a big heart for saving and helping troubled women and children. One willing to lend her shoulder for a good cry when needed. Tough love too."

"No way, you rotten jerk," Jessica bit off. "I don't need your sleazy inheritance charity!"

"This ain't charity because Luke Cage and I were pals, dammit, or because you and Dani are now living hand to mouth hiding out in this fleabag. Nor for me feeling guilty about being alive while he ain't. As for Luke going to war, it was laid out to him, and you, and he chose to go knowing the risks. So get off my fuh … freaking back, Jessica, and pay fuh … freaking attention for Dani's sake if no other reason. And have a free cold beer. A Molson. It's good shi … stuff."

Trying to stifle his growing grouch at her shitty attitude, Logan unsnapped his briefcase and lifted the lid to get out a thick stack of cash in big bills that was encased in a large plastic sandwich baggie. He slid it over the desk towards a now silently gaping, still frowning, and yet taken aback Jessica. The bag of cash came to a stop beside her unopened beer.

"Half of that is just for letting me in the door just now," Logan added gruffly. "The rest is for moving expenses and a retainer, but still yours to keep if you turn down the job. Call it interview expense to relocate and find a better smelling and friendlier office after I leave."

Jessica stared down at the enticing money while Logan sat back, pulled his dead cigar out of his mouth, took another swig on his Molson beer, and then slowly rolled his unlit cigar stub between his left hand's thumb and fingers in silent contemplation.

Luke Cage had been a good man, one of four Logan had actually respected and liked. A real, no nonsense, nitty gritty, straight shooter with a passion for truth and justice. His widow was one of the same types, and there was only one other female in Logan's life that she compared to for good character in his book, but Jean Grey was dead. Logan gave his still unhappy host a quick once over, opening his psychic instincts and feral senses to re-confirm his impressions of her from earlier years. Mrs. Jessica Jones-Cage was no glowing and wildly talented young beauty, just a better than average looking, brown haired, brown eyed gal with a decent figure, angular but pleasant face, and a few jumped up abilities thanks to some radiation altered DNA. She was also a solid, loving, highly loyal, moral, straight shooting, and intelligent woman. And she still smelled good.

"What stinks, Logan? Spell it all out, and don't make cute," Jessica said suddenly as she closely studied his facial expression in return. Logan had never been a rah, rah, go get 'em type of a team player, ever. Nor particularly interested in her well being other than his odd fondness for Danielle.

How that instant mutual mental link had been formed between her little girl and the bloody Wolverine had been a nightmare of non understanding to Jessica from day one. She had done her best to shield her daughter and limit all contact, but Danielle's reaction to his sudden appearance just now had once again shown how such past efforts had been in vain. The kid simply flat out adored the short, hairy, vulgar bastard for no earthly reason that Jessica could see. The imaginary Green Lady playmate endorsing Logan for anything was a total mystery too.

Also, money and perks like this from anyone, but especially from Logan, just didn't get tossed around for a minor game of private detective tiddly winks either. There was lifelong security for her and her daughter on the desk if she picked up this bag, but what was the price going to be to her soul for doing it? He was an I.D.P. guy now, even if he wasn't a High Councilor any more. On the other hand, she and Danielle were pretty poor, barely scraping along actually. Money was very hard to come by nowadays, cases few and far between, so she really couldn't just tell him to go fan his ass and leave without knowing what he was trying to get her to do. There just might be a small chance he was offering something she could tolerate. Aha! Just as she had suspected. There was now a small tightening around the corners of Logan's deep blue eyes as he carefully tried to phrase his reply for what stinks, a mild grimace, yet noticeable. Now comes the shitty end of the carrot, and he'd better be telling her every damn smelly part of it.

"Jess, the I.D.P. needed money to pay war debts," Logan sighed while lifting his eyes to hers. Okay. She could see the truth in them. "And a way to steal all they could from what I inherited, even though I didn't want any of it to begin with. I was just the last freaking beneficiary listed and still standing in several wills is all. Anyway, after ramming through a vampire extermination act on every Protectorate planet, the High Council threatened to murder Jubilation Lee along with all the other undead sects that survived the war. What I didn't know was that the Shi'ar have a new regenerative technology that can restore dead tissue on a molecular lever, basically cloning a vampire back to life. Whether they'll be able to keep their unique personalities and memories isn't known yet, but the Shi'ar do have a gestalt storing and imprinting device that might accomplish all that.

"I filed a law suit against the new termination act and won a judicial stay while publicly protesting the killing of the Forgiven sect that Jubilee belonged to. That's the group that only uses small mammal and never human blood to live. Then the High Council proposed a deal, pounced on it actually, told me about the new Shi'ar procedures, and left me with no alternatives but to go along with their frigging plans since I was really desperate to save Jubilee."

"You got blackmailed into something, right?" Jessica took a deep breath and let it out in knowing disgust. "And now you're trying to save all the vampires? And want MY help? You moron."

"Well no, not all vampires, just a few more, maybe, and yes, I am a moron," Logan waved a defensive left hand for patience. "And, uh, dammit, that's not really the worst of it."

"There's more?" Jessica raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "And it gets worse?"

"It's called the House of L. I can go into all the other non relevant details later. The main things concerning you are these. You know everyone HAS to be registered now right? No exceptions, especially for mutants and augmented humans. Any problems, or even the hint of one, and the I.D.P. steps in hard and fast to prosecute for termination. Because of this, and Jube's problem, I made a deal with the I.D.P. to finance, build, and run a combined female hospice, sanitarium, and prison. It will be for existing and future augmented female humans and mutants that have been or will be designated as high security threats to the Protectorate. Chamber has been tapped to operate the same kind of facility for security risk mutant males on Earth 295. There is an appeal process for this threat designation in both institutions, but only three outcomes can come from an appeal, total rehabilitation back into peaceful society with continuous lifetime monitoring, life imprisonment in the facility as long as secure measures and indemnity bonds are in place guaranteeing public safety, and last, the death penalty. If the Shi'ar treatments don't work, Jubilee's security status will have to be re-evaluated. Because of our past history with each other, I will not be allowed to have anything to do with it if that's the case."

"So what does this have to do with me?" Jessica asked slowly, but it didn't take a super suspicious type to know the answer. Logan needed as much favorable background on Jubilee as he could get worked up. Still, he needed to totally spell everything out. And she had to be careful here. She wasn't registered under the new laws, and neither was Danielle.

"If you take the job of head House detective, you and a team of human assistants will be investigating the backgrounds, medical reports, and potential public security threats of all the present and future inmates. That will be before they are admitted to the House of L, during ongoing treatments, and after treatments are completed. Your group's findings along with your recommendations will then be forwarded to the I.D.P. legal corps for final reviews and disposition."

"Our recommenda," Jessica broke off in dawning understanding. This was even worse than what she had expected! Far beyond simple background investigating! She stared at Logan in open mouthed horror."Final reviews? The I.D.P. is simply going to decide who lives and DIES? As public security threats from medical reports and background stuff? Not anyone's actions or crimes committed? No trials? No innocent until PROVEN guilty? Just for what they ARE? Oh man! This is SO not right! Straight out of, of, what? Dark Age witch hunts? Hitler's Germany? Stalin's gulags? Mao's China, and, and Pol Pot's whatever? We might as well be living in the Shadowbox Empire and not even went to war! This reeks! Totally REEKS!"

"Yeah, I know," Logan replied while rubbing a weary hand over his forehead. "The I.D.P. sucks, and they're paranoid as hell, but it's what we got. Every planet overwhelmingly voted these strict laws in because like it or not, humans are a vast majority, and we been fighting the anti-mutant wars for decades, and losing. Today, augmented and mutants are less than 2 percent of the Protectorate's total population. Look, the days of costumed super heroes forming vigilante groups and fighting against invading aliens and mutant bad guys, and each other too, those are over. There was a LOT of human collateral damage in those decades too. Remember Stamford? Genosha? All those Sentinel battles? Anti-mutant riots? Phoenix Five? Civil War? The humans ain't forgot, even if we did just win the damn Shadowbox Wars for 'em. A lot of of world conquering bad guys didn't help our reputations much in the past either, especially all the Magneto, Sinister, Shaw, Modok types and their gangs.

Because all that past combined shit happened, and despite our recent war records, all the current mutant and augmented hardcore criminals, and I mean all, are being tracked down and simply eliminated. No trial, no appeal, no more screwing around. Outfits like the Hand, Hydra, Hammer, Aim, and even the Friends of Humanity and other similar outfits are fair game too. So these new strict laws are cutting both ways for public peace. Mutants and augmented humans will simply HAVE to live by the same rules as a structured human society or be killed. It's that simple. And mutant children will be immediately registered when found, taught those same rules too, and if not, they will be incarcerated for life or summarily killed in the future. Now, I'm trying to slow things down. Get the public past the present Shadowbox hysteria and old hatreds of mutants. Give our gifted kids a fair chance to learn the ropes and live, as well as more fairness for mutant rights. But I'm gonna need help, dammit!"

"There is no freaking way Logan! Judge and jury? Me? I can't do it! No! No, no, No, NO!"

"C'mon Jessica! Think! Your group's recommendations will only be a part of the final appeal process, but they will carry great weight according to Matt Murdock. He was the one that recommended you for the job. I'm sure I can get you approved too."

"Approved?" Jessica almost shouted as she slammed her chair back and stood up with fists clenched anew. "By that himbo? For you? For blood money? For FUCKING blood money?"

"Oh Mommy!" Danielle glowered over her left shoulder without turning. "You just said a bad word again! The Green Lady doesn't like potty mouths!"

"Oh God! I'm sorry, Precious! I'm just, just a little upset, and, and you study while I talk to Uncle Logan! Then we'll order pizza for supper later, okay? Damn you Logan! You know I'm pretty broke, right? Hiding out like this? Why didn't you just ask me to be your fucking whore? I would have seriously considered THAT even though I hate your fucking guts! I'm no kind of judge for who lives and dies! And I'm out of all the super hero shit! OUT! Do you hear me! I've had it with all the fucking Purple Man and Puppet Master and all the hell other mind controlling sonsofbitches that are out there! And their troubles too, right up to here! Why in the hell do you think I'm back hiding out in this dump district again! Luke is dead! So is Scott Lang and Clay Quartermain! The Avengers are toast, and so are a lot of the X-Men! The ones that are left mostly hate each others guts and can't be trusted!"

"Why not?" Logan scowled in disbelief at her intense reaction. "I mean, sure they got their own little cesspool of mutual bitching and jabbing at each other now, but it'll pass! They've lost teammates and lovers they've been with for years! They got a lot of grief! At least the Avenger Mansion is a helluva lot safer for you and Dani than his dump!"

"Bullshit!" Jessica half snarled in disgust. "Cesspool doesn't even BEGIN to describe that incestuous, love swapping hell hole! Especially now with most of the guys gone! With her ex-husband Hawkeye dead, Mockingbird still HATES Spider Woman's guts for the years Drew was screwing him! And Wasp hates them both because she wanted to keep fucking Barton behind her ex-husband Hank Pym's back! Scarlet Witch was boffing Hawkeye too! And they all dropped their panties in Tony Stark's bedroom at one time or another! She Hulk was doing every guy in the place, even Jarvis the butler and that Iron Chef cook! And we ain't even gonna start on the way Captain America, Winter Soldier, Ant Man, and that mouthy fucker Spiderman was screwing around! And Danvers, Black Widow, and even your damn switch hitting X-Women Rogue and Storm were damn well getting their jollies at every opportunity with all of 'em! And every one of 'em was after my Luke! I had to watch those horny bitches like a hawk! Stay there now? With Danielle? I wouldn't let those back stabbing, sharp tongued, bed hopping harpies within a mile of my daughter! Not even Doreen Green since she started shacking up with Daredevil, the absolute biggest himbo of them all! Bigger than even you! I mean Murdock has a scorecard that would have made Mickey Mantle and Wilt Chamberlain blush!"

Mickey and Wilt? Rogue and Storm were switch hitters too? He had heard a few small rumors about Rachel and Kitty Pryde, snarky innuendos really from his bitch ex-wife Viper, but this other was disconcerting juicy news. Damn. Was that the real reason the Black Panther had divorced Storm? Wait. What in the HELL was a himbo? Was Jessica saying he was a switch hitter too? Jeez!

"Are you SURE about Storm and Rogue? I mean, I've never heard the least little hint of..."

"Oh, for crying out loud, Logan! Everyone saw those paparazzi pictures of their X-Girls only Madripoor vacation back in 2010 with Pryde, Psylocke, Rachel Grey, and that total heathen Emma Frost! From the way they all were smiling and looking at each other caught on camera, the way they weren't hardly dressed, and how they were always hanging all over each other, a gal can tell they were going at each other like scalded bunnies off camera! Danvers, Wasp, and Drew laughed themselves silly when they saw those shots!"

"Geeez, ….. and Squirrel Girl is boinking Daredevil now?" Logan flinched a little in surprise. Damn! No wonder things had been pretty cool around the school for some time now. And nuts! He HAD recently thought about looking Doreen and her furry prehensile tail up again for old times sake. Although she had really, really been pissed at him when he had boffed and dumped her years ago.

"YES!" Jessica hissed in disgust. "And the Black Cat hates Doreen's guts for it too! And NONE of those loose Avenger and X bitches like me, because I TOLD 'em what I thought of 'em when they were all bawling their crocodile tears at the war funerals while giving each other the jealous stink eye! And that's why Dani and I have nobody! Nobody we can trust any farther than I can spit! Even Carol Danvers! And YOU can't be trusted for, for, for anything either the way you just come and go with no warning! You're never around long enough to be useful even when you do show up! You're just a murdering big piece of shit that lives while better guys die!"

"Ouch, okay I deserve that, maybe," Logan replied with another wince while trying to ignore her righteous venom. Keep your temper dummy! You need her! He began shrugging and nodding his head in agreement at her bleak assessments of everybody. Okay. Lets try a new tack. "But look, Jessica ummm, things ain't all that bad for everybody now that the Puppet Master is dead."

To buy some time and let her cool down a bit, Logan calmly took another suck on his beer before tilting it up and draining it. He thumped the empty down on the desk and jerked another from its plastic collar. He popped its top before continuing. Maybe he should try to appeal to her motherly instincts. That's right! Jessica had a bad history with the Purple Man! Maybe this would help get her back on track.

"So's the Purple Man, Jess. Dead, I mean. And I've got to break that news to his daughter Persuasion in Toronto somehow though. I, uhhh, know Killgrave screwed your mind over pretty bad in the past and everything, but Kara Killgrave's not a bad kid, well not too bad, and uhhh, well she's up for evaluation too, and I was kinda hoping you'd help me with all that. She could use a good new friend right now, ya know?"

"Purple Man dead?" Jessica blinked and frowned in disbelief as her tense shoulders abruptly sagged. Her knees suddenly went weak, forcing her to sit back down. With both hands shaking badly, she reached into her desk's top left drawer for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. "You're sure. Logan? I mean, dammit, that guy, he's been routinely escaping and, and murdering for years, and, and..."

"Awww Mommy! You're not supposed to smoke anymore! You promised!"

"SHUT THE HELL UP, DANIELLE! JUST DO YOUR DAMN MATH!"

"Jess, hey kid," Logan, wincing again at the near total emotional meltdown he had just inadvertently triggered, leaned forward and held out his open beer. A wild eyed Jessica numbly took it in her free hand, staring sightlessly over Logan's head while once again reliving old horrors the Purple Man had made her endure. Logan spared a quick glance of chagrin at a wide eyed and totally shocked Danielle, pushing his palms downward at the young girl. He then made a circling motion with a finger for her to turn around, ignore her mom's potty mouth and smoking, and let him somehow handle her suddenly overwrought mother. Dani nodded quickly in understanding as Logan began to speak in low soothing tones.

"Hey, hey, calm down a little, Jessica. And yes, I'm sure the Purple Man is dead. I cut his damn head off down in Brazil myself two days ago when I went to free Maria Vasquez from his control. You know, her, the Tarantula, right? I snuck up on Killgrave and nailed his ass while he was sleeping. Got the Puppet Master the same way further up the Amazon River three days earlier. The I.D.P. has developed a real hard on about all those old mind controlling criminals. Satellites located their hideouts after some of their native supply flunkies were hit with micro tracers. I got sent out and ordered to bring those two old mind warpers in dead or alive. I preferred dead."

"Killgrave is really dead?" Jessica took a huge drag on her cigarette and then blew it out quickly, nervously licking her lips afterward.

Logan could see her mind was racing somewhere between disbelief and total fear. Had she feared the Purple guy so much that it had caused her to go into totally irrational flight and wind up hiding in this lousy firetrap in Old Manhattan? And she didn't trust old Logan enough to ask for help and sanctuary? Man, that hurt. Had he actually sunk that low in everybody's minds?

"How, how, how come he didn't control your fucked up mind, Logan, and, and make you just THINK it was him instead of another dazed guy he was using for a substitute? I mean, are you sure it was HIM?"

"I've gotten a big mental shield boost from a friend recently," Logan shrugged again while not wanting to share any details of that incident, "and I had a level 10 before. Nobody can get into my head now unless I let 'em. Zebediah Killgrave, the Purple Man, serial and mass murdering mind controller, has become last week's Amazon piranha happy meal. Just like the Puppet Master. I swear on Luke's grave."

A long and poignant silence ensued as Jessica sat and sightlessly smoked her cigarette, or rather just held it in front of her mouth and let a thin plume of smoke curl up towards the grungy looking ceiling. Logan just let her alone with her thoughts, not pushing.

"Killgrave actually had a daughter?" Jessica finally broke the silence and took a weak puff on her dwindling cigarette while still visibly trying to calm her shaking nerves. Staring blankly at the opened can of Molson beer in her right hand for a few seconds, she raised it to her mouth and took in several gulping swallows. She panted a few times after finishing. "Zebediah Killgrave had a daughter?"

"Yeah, and I need your help to save her life, Jess," Logan nodded while visibly wincing. Damn! He hadn't anticipated such a wild reaction over the Purple Man from Jessica. He had been right. She must have been really worried without Luke around to protect her, and well, her opinions of and about the protection abilities of the remaining Avengers and especially Wolverine weren't all that flattering either, even if they were all true. C'mon dummy! Keep appealing to Jessica's sympathy!

"Uhhh, yeah, ya see, Jess, years ago Killgrave mind controlled some woman into marrying him and then lost his hold on her somehow. She left him, but he had gotten her pregnant. She fled to hide out in Canada and later had a mutant daughter. The kid grew up, had some troubles, but was working for some good guys in the Canadian Government before the Shadowbox Wars. Her whole team has had some bad troubles since, now been branded a high security risk by the I.D.P., and, uhhh, jailed. Vindicator, Snowbird, Aurora, Talisman, Arachne, Pathway, Murmur, and Persuasion to be specific. I used to work with the older ones back in my Alpha Strike days, and, well, they all need help now too, bad. So do some friends of yours. Here, look at some of these folders I've brought. They're all going to the House as soon as its construction is finished. Maybe a few weeks from now since it's been made a high priority."

Jessica watched Logan take a stack of very old fashioned manila folders out of his briefcase and slide them towards her. She eyed them as if they were covered in some invisible goo that contained a vile slime disease. Her eyes did read the name tag on the top folder. Jackpot. What the hell was a Jackpot, or who? She looked up at Logan to see him watching her with almost guileless eyes.

"Her real name is Sara Ehret. Years ago she got augmented DNA powers during a biological lab accident. Long story short is she and Spiderman went after the drug gang that was run by the guy who infected her. That gang of bad guys killed her husband, then tried to kill her and her daughter. Somewhere in that whole mess, another gal trying to use her Jackpot identity got killed too. That was before maybe. I don't remember all the details. Read the file.

"Anyway, after that whole deal was over, Sara and her daughter began hiding out under assumed names, trying to stay low and out of the super heroine business. The I.D.P. has now got her and her daughter marked as security risks because the lab virus that originally infected Sara has been proven to be unstable, virulent, and quite lethal under some conditions. I couldn't follow all the science mumbo jumbo other than mom and her kid were caught and are now locked up and gonna be forced to undergo Shi'ar treatments even though nothing seems to be medically wrong with either of 'em. I want to be sure they get a really favorable evaluation for their appeal, see? But I need extensive background work ups to help bolster their case. There's a bunch more like them in there."

Jessica lifted her eyes up and then took a long look at Danielle still playing her math games. It didn't take a genius detective to figure out the implications of everything Logan had just shoved at her. Another little psycho demonstration in public over some moral outrage from one Jessica Jones-Cage, one little hint that she had willfully dodged registration for herself and her daughter, and off to the House of L she and Danielle went, not as highly paid, protected, and perk compensated employees, but as inmates. Jessica brought her attention back to stare at Logan again. He was playing her like a big damn accordion, pushing all the buttons, but he really did have beautiful, deep blue eyes, and broad shoulders just like... What the hell! This was LOGAN! The DAMN Wolverine for crying out loud! Didn't Danvers once say that Logan must have some enhanced pheromone powers or something? Cool your own kinked up and lonely hormones woman! Wait.

"If I DID take the job," Jessica eyes narrowed in renewed suspicion, "and I'm not saying I am, yet, just WHO are these HUMAN assistants? How are you making this House of L a high security joint? Who's running the show? And just what are YOU expecting from me, personally?"

"Personally? From you?" Logan gave her a totally surprised look that honestly showed that he'd never even considered the thought. "Not a damn thing. I'm just getting this thing set up and financing it to always keep running without any outside money. Anyway, as for internal and external security, inmates will all be wearing power inhibitor collars with micro particle beam cutters that will instantly activate past the House perimeters. The grounds will also be protected by Shi'ar plasma cannon, ion beam fencing, and a bunch of advanced Sentinels confiscated as war surplus from the Shadowbox planets. They've been reworked to keep all hostile folks out as well as House inmates in. Anyone trying to leave will get their heads chopped. Anyone unauthorized trying to get in will get worse.

"Once the place is operational, you won't be seeing much of me at all, if ever. You'll just work with Miss Darkholme the administrator and give her your reports. Turn all your expense vouchers into Miss Frost the accountant. Jennifer Walters will be running the law department inside. Matt Murdock will be doing the outside trial work. Medical staff is going to include Hank McCoy, Cordelia Reyes, and some Shi'ar specialists. I'm trying to get Elektra Natchios for head of security. Songbird's coming from her warden job at The Raft to help her. Maybe Photon too. Still working on the service staff."

"Darkholme? Mystique? Fucking Mystique as the administrator? And Emma Frost, one of the former Phoenix Five, as your accountant? Two of the absolute worst and heartless damn criminals on the whole freaking planet? Logan! You really are out of your fucking ever loving mind!"

"Dammit Jess! They got the SKILLS! Neither one is quite as heartless as you think when it comes to mutant women and children, and they can absolutely be trusted to further their own interests at all times, especially when it comes to their own comforts. Now they can't get out, so you can bet your ass they'll run that place so damn smooth that the I.D.P. will fall all over themselves in trying to stay out of Raven and Emma's hair. Just the way both of those born rebels want. Besides, everyone hates their guts so they won't ever be accused of favoritism, and they hate each other enough to keep an eagle eye on one another. Elektra, with no love lost for either one, will be watching them too and have the authority to chop heads if they start screwing around. They won't be a problem for you, okay?

"Now, for your human assistants, I want Seraph Investigations. Seraph's an old pal from back in my Madripoor days, and Tyger Tiger has joined her too since the I.D.P. took over that whole damn island. Seraph has moved her main office to here in Manhattan, and her gals are all human women that I've known in the past. I trust them all a lot more than others for in depth and sensitive investigating, and quite frankly, they need the money now that I.D.P. is royally screwing up the private detective market. Since they are all human, the I.D.P. will be much more inclined to approve them for hire too. Here's Seraph's brochure. I'm, uhhh, gonna need your help convincing them to take this gig, because, well, they're all ex-girlfriends of mine and don't like me much now. But they're all crack talents, extremely good in a pinch, and sharp as all get out, experienced too. They'd be doing most of your leg work. Not only will they be helping you and the House of L, it'll keep them busy and away from me. Win, win, win the way I see it."

"Seraph's Angels?" Jessica cautiously mused out loud as she took the small advertising brochure from Logan and began perusing the interior pages. "Cassie Lathrop, ex-ATF agent, Nancy Rushman, hunter/guide/tracker, Melita Garner, ex-reporter, Jessan Hoan, Madripoor businesswoman, Yukio, Asian consultant, Elsa Bloodstone, mystic adviser? References listed as Natalia Romanova, Jessica Drew, Carol Danvers, Elektra Natchios, Misty Knight, Colleen Wing? Holy SHIT! These are all your ex-girlfriends, Logan? Who's who of Heroes For Hire? I know you're a total himbo, all the X-Women and some Avenger gals say so, but damn!"

"I don't remember ever being with Colleen and Misty," Logan frowned defensively while trying hard to remember, "uhhh, unless maybe I got blitzed sometime, and, oh hell, maybe I did. I don't know. Dr. Rotwell jerked chunks of my brain out through my nose and destroyed a lot of memories a few years back. I lost Melita that way. I suppose you can ask Misty and Colleen if you're really that interested, but I can't remember the last time I saw either one, let alone being in bed with 'em. Bloodstone shot me once or twice before the war, but we never, well, not that I remember anyway. Uhhh, there's that word again. What's a himbo?"

"Male bimbo, total shallow Romeo, Tony Stark, Daredevil, Hawkeye, player type," Jessica returned absently as she made a tentative move to spread the stack of folders out to peek at more inmate names. "Kinda like a brainless, valley girl, and dudette surfer that's got less morals and discrimination than She Hulk, Emma Frost, and the Scarlet Witch combined."

"Damn, that's just not true, much," Logan frowned in aggrieved irritation. Sure, he was a low life Molson man, but he did have SOME moral standards. "I'm no saint that's for sure, but other than Domino, Dazzler, and Psylocke before the Wars, I've not played around hardly ever, well, I dated Storm a couple of times before she just up and married Black Panther. Guy like me would never have a chance with her anyway. I was in love with Jean, but she's dead now, and nothing ever really happened between me and her or Storm either back then. Rogue and I kinda, but didn't, and then the wars started. That went on hold, so actually, I ain't been with any gal before or even after the Wars since, so, hey, look. My screwed up love life ain't the issue here, right? I won't be around the House once everything gets up and running, so all sarcasm and unhappy digs aside, why worry about it? Besides, the ones I did date here and there way back then all fell in love with other guys, even more than one, and moved on a long time ago. I'm more of a barely tolerated after thought with all those gals nowadays, not that I blame any of 'em. Like you said before. I'm just a murdering big piece of shit that's lived way too long. Who in the hell wants a turd like me around for a boyfriend?"

"I, I, shouldn't have said that, and, I don't really HATE," Jessica began contritely while mentally kicking herself. Damn! Me and my snarky mouth! Luke had ALWAYS said that Logan was a lot better guy than anyone gave him credit for, and Dani simply adored him. It's hard to fool a kid too, especially Dani who already seemed to have an acute psychic affinity for some mutants, Logan being her favorite. But dammit! He was such an unlikable and uncouth jerk!

"Ahhh, it's all right," Logan waved her off. "Forget it. Focus on the names on those folders. Half of 'em you probably know. I need your help to save 'em, help 'em, and Jubilee."

"Carol? Carol Danvers?" Jessica gasped as she quickly began leafing through the stack but didn't even get halfway. "Drinking again? Wanda Maximoff, okay she's always been nuts, so's Tigra, but Mockingbird? Breakdown after the Avengers' funerals? Designated as emotionally unstable. Same as Black Widow, Wasp, and Jessica Drew? Damn! She Hulk has cancer? Firestar has it again too? You even have medical files on Echo, Black Cat, Hellcat, Lyra Banner, and Sister Grimm? Never heard of her! And these bottom files are the Canadians and the female Raft criminals? My God! Typhoid Mary? She's totally fucking insane! AND Red She HULK too! Titania, Lascivious, Chimera, Viper, Vertigo, Moonstone, and Witchfire? Who's she? Martinique Jason, Regan Wyngarde, Poison, Asp, Black Mamba, Diamondback, Remus, Kay Cera Destine? Holy Crap! Logan! These are really dangerous types! And VAMPIRES? I, I, I c, c, couldn't, there's too many, and I can't do..."

"I NEED your help, Jessica! Dammit! Some of these are my friends! Teammates! Of Luke's! And yours too! And there's more like Tarantula and other security risk mutants from other planets coming also! Hell, the way things are going, it's only a matter of time until the I.D.P. lock up all our X-Women! They're scared to death of Storm and Rachel Grey organizing and mounting a coup! Look! I'm one step away from being tossed into an I.D.P. prison myself or just being shredded and burned! The only thing that's stopping the High Council from killing me tonight is for once in my life I've got a hero rating with the general public, AND I'm useful for hunting down and terminating other hardcore bad guys they're REALLY scared of! It's only a matter of time before I get chopped too, but it's okay! I'm tired of being used as everybody's convenient little weapon! And I'm tired of fighting! But you kids deserve better! Give me time to work out a better deal for everybody before I go!"

"Kids?" Jessica cocked her head a little to stare at Logan as if she were seeing him for the first time. He actually WAS trying to help mutant women and kids, even the bad ones. She could see the truth and concern in his agonized eyes. Where was he going? Did it sound like he wasn't even gonna try staying alive? A sudden curious thought crossed her mind. She flicked the ash off her much shorter cigarette before taking a quick puff. Exhaling, she voiced her odd musing almost automatically. "How OLD are you, Logan?"

"I was born 1880 something, Alberta, Canada," Logan broke eye contact as if he was ashamed in some painful fashion. He stared at the floor while continuing in a monotone. "Not sure of the year actually. Healing factor slowed my aging way down. I looked maybe early twenties when I met Natasha between the world wars. She was thirteen and the first young gal I trained. The Infinity treatment given to her, Steve Rogers, Nick Fury, and other Avengers and Shield agents came from blood experiments done on me back in the old Weapon X days. Kept 'em all looking and performing young. But I'm actually a lot older biologically since I've been kicked around in the time stream a few times before the Wars. A decade or so in the distant past here and there, many more up in the future, some on alternate worlds. Hell, my head's been messed with so many times, half of 'em I can't remember much about, if at all. Who knows? I'm 150, 175, 200 maybe.

"Who really cares anyway? All I know for sure is I'm damn tired of fighting useless wars, tired of killing. And I'm really damn tired of being used as a wind up death weapon by every sick fuck wannabe world conqueror and asshole government, but the bastards are never going to leave me alone. Just always going to be a too useful, too convenient piece of murdering meat and fighting asset they can use and manipulate. I'm also damned tired of grieving, and damned tired of burying women I gave my heart to. You buried Luke. I've buried Silverfox, Itsu, Mariko, and Jean. And a few others I was really fond of that died over the years simply because they knew me. I've also killed and buried six of my own kids. One of my worst Wolverine counterparts on another planet killed his own daughter he had with Mariko. I met her before she was murdered and she was a really great kid that deserved a whole lot better, but I couldn't save her. How shitty was that? There's rumors the I.D.P. are gonna go after other Wolverine offspring on other Protectorate planets and lock them up as security risks too. All I want now is to try to get all of you kids healthy and safe from the I.D.P. as best as I can for now, keep you alive until cooler heads take control, put your futures into your hands, then I'm history."

"History?" Jessica's eyes narrowed again as she leaned forward for her next question. "How?"

"Got a little place in mind to go where I will never be bothered again," Logan shrugged in an offhand fashion while cocking his head and staring vaguely at the wall and/or window behind her. "My late son Daken showed me the way to it before the Wars. The only good thing he ever did with his life, I guess."

A very long silence followed. Jessica chewed her lower lip and frowned at all that he had said and not said about himself, especially his early history with other Avengers and X-Women. Some she knew about from listening to Carol Danvers and Jessica Drew gossip, but he had trained the Black Widow? Almost a century ago? And Jessica had also heard about his teaming up with Kitty Pryde, Polaris, Dazzler, Domino, Jubilee, Armor, and others at one time or another since. Even the spooky looking Shi'ar Warbird named Ava'Dara. Then he had become an Avenger too and became a decent fighting teammate, not particularly well liked, but at least respected by most. And most all of the females he had been teamed with seemed quite fond of the guy, except maybe for Wasp and a few other bitchy types. Brains yanked out through his nose? The loneliness and grief he had experienced for so many, many years? Loves lost? He had loved Jean Grey, hadn't he? The really, really nice and caring X-Woman that had helped Jessica mentally shield herself years ago and defeat the Purple Man's second attack?

And hadn't she heard something from Carol Danvers about all the many times Logan had tried to commit suicide after World War II? There was an old story he had tried to get Magda, the Scarlet Witch's mother to kill him, but the Gypsy witch had wound up in bed with him instead. Then cuckolded Magneto had thrown Logan out of Wundagore afterward. Matter of fact, there were a TON of old stories and rumors about Logan's self hating and mindless feral escapades now that she thought about it. Was he becoming suicidal once again? It sure sounded like it.

"You, uhhh, you don't sound like you're all that happy with life," Jessica began tentatively while once again carefully watching his eyes. "I mean, are you having real trouble living with yourself?"

"Always have," Logan sighed heavily, his eyes taking on a far away look of their own. "Some days I wake up and try to be the best guy I can be while fighting the feral bastard inside my mind. Some days I fail pretty bad. All the other days in between I have to improvise."

"Improvise? How?"

"Daily meditation and beer. To stay as sane as I can. I drink a lot of damn beer, Molson when I can get it because I'm a Canadian. Now you know why I'm a such lousy, low life Molson man."

"Oh," Jessica frowned slightly as he lapsed again into silence and began to stare past her as if he was lost in some bad memories. That certainly hadn't sounded all that happy, Jessica thought, and Logan really did have a fucked up mind, but then again, if he was going to stick around long enough to get the House of L up and running for the long haul, what did she really care? It was Danielle's safety and upbringing that was most important here, and he was offering private quarters, private schooling, high protection, and high, steady pay for food and clothing. All she had to do was be a detective. For the fucking I.D.P. If not, sooner or later a victim, and have Danielle taken from her for not registering. A thing he could apparently fix. Both choices really sucked, but that last of having Danielle taken from her was totally intolerable. Okay fine. If it meant Danielle's safety and not being take away, then she'd be Logan's damn House detective.

For his part and not even knowing he'd hired Jessica, Logan came back to suddenly thinking about how odd and totally empty the street outside had looked. Something had pinged his unconscious feral wariness, and he was now getting psychic vibes of something drawing closer, closing in. What or who was it? What would they be doing or want? It was clear Jessica had nothing of much value here, not even the cheap little computer Danielle was using. Unless? Damn. Damn, damn, DAMN!

"Tell me you and Danielle are registered," Logan stood up abruptly and stepped past her to the window. He eased the closed blinds back ever so slightly to peer out at the street while waiting for Jessica's answer. He saw no movement, but he DID feel something was out there; a presence, and not a friendly one either. He turned to accusingly glance at Jessica when she remained silent.

"Jess, do you even KNOW how much the bounty is on an unregistered mutant's kid?"

"Bounty? Since when did the I.D.P. starting putting out bounties on innocent kids?" Jessica swallowed hard and began silently cursing herself for being such a naive fool! Of course those I.D.P. High Council bastards would use bounty hunters! Especially if they could get their hands on a kid as potentially powerful and talented as Dani for brainwashing her into their service! When the news had come that Luke had died fighting, she had just wanted to run! Escape and hide! Especially from the Purple Man! And had done her best to disappear from all traces of her life as an Avenger, even purging all references of her and Danielle from all the top secret data banks in the Avenger Mansion's computers.

"Oh damn Jess," Logan returned simply while shaking his head in disgust at her and going back to peer harder at the darkening street scene. Something didn't feel right out there at all. What the hell was it?

"How long you two been here, Jess?"

"A little over six months. Rent is real cheap, and it's only a twenty minute walk to our apartment across the river."

"Ever seen this street totally empty? I mean, there's nobody moving around out there, and some of those shops down the block stay open past sundown, right?"

"There were people out there like always yesterday when we left at noon for my dental appointment. We got here early this morning, and you're right. It was pretty empty then, but I didn't think that much about it. Things don't pick up out there until the stores open at ten, but we didn't go out at all today since I brought lunch from home and had a lot of paperwork to do. Car traffic has been way down since folks can't afford to buy the new anti-gravs, and there's no fuel for the old gasoline models. Everybody walks or bicycles. Why?"

"Street was totally dead when I came. Still is, but something's out there. I can feel it, and it ain't happy. Get the briefcase. Put the files, money, and Dani's computer in it. Forget everything else. We gotta get out of here and get you two staying in a safe house until I can get you both legally registered."

He unlatched the office window and forced it open an inch as Jessica scrambled into action. After flipping his dead cigar butt aside to clear its steady aroma from his nostrils, he took a deep inhale through his nose and then another. There were no human scents close by. He scanned the sky. The closest anti-grav car and truck traffic was west across the river and emitting a faint electrical hum from their solar powered lift units. No vehicles were hovering or moving about on this side within earshot. So, probably not bounty hunters as he had first feared.

Wait. There! Crap! He should have remembered THAT mix of foul odors! Decaying meat, stale unwashed bodies, and sewers! Moloids! Or worse, the bigger Molans. He had heard rumors of a new pack found and purged in Boston. Some must have escaped south, or had just stayed well hidden from I.D.P.'s latest subterranean purgative efforts. These light sensitive little buggers massing out there were probably more than half starved then, and they were almost ready to crawl out of the sewers to brave the darkening SoHo District streets and begin looking for fresh meat or scavenging for not so fresh. No wonder the damn street smelled so bad and was almost totally devoid of life now. They must have cleaned the block last night when Jessica and Danielle were gone and went back underground before sunrise. Now they were on the prowl for whatever they had missed last night. Time to call in his backup. He slapped a button on his left jacket lapel and spoke softly.

"Ava'Dara. I need Clarice or Megan my location. Three to go. Critical."

"I hear, Commander." Warbird's stilted Shi'ar accent sounded from the same button.

"What is it?" Jessica gasped in alarm while clutching Danielle to her in one arm and holding Logan's stuffed and close briefcase in the other. All previous ill will for bloody Wolverine was now gone in motherly protective fear. "Bounty hunters?"

"Moloids," Logan snagged his remaining beer as he turned quickly for the door. "Or worse, bigger Molans. Damn subterraneans eat anything, especially warm meat. C'mon! We gotta make a run for the stairs and get up on the roof. I can fight 'em off up there until Pixie or Blink get here to teleport us out. Worse comes to worse, you can still fly, right?"

"Badly, but yeah," Jessica nodded as she bolted past him clutching Jessica and the briefcase, and then she literally flew down the almost dark hallway towards the stairwell door.

"Commander," Warbird's voice sounded just as Logan followed Jessica and Danielle up past the stairs' fourth floor landing. "Pixie advises quote, 'She won't help any I.D.P. creeps do anything, especially Logan because he got Gabriel Jones killed.' Blink advises you to perform an impossible anatomical mating maneuver upon yourself for letting Mister Creed die. I will come to your aid upon your ancient two wheeled transportation device that is powered by the internal ignition of a volatile carbon based liquid. Estimated time of arrival would be 76 minutes. Please find some way to refrain from battle until my arrival, and then we can enter joyful combat together. I wish to use this occasion to begin a new phase in the intergalactic relationships of the Shi'ar Imperium and your species."

"What? Dammit! No! We're surrounded by starving Moloids that want to eat us! Tell Blink and Pixie I've got an augmented mother and her mutant child here with me! Come and get 'em! I'll fight my own way out! And stay off my bike, Ava!"

Logan cursed steadily under his breath as he pounded up the last flight of stairs. New phase in intergalactic relationships? What the hell was that? And the freaking X-Women and their freaking issues for blaming him for everything that had went wrong in the damn war! Just like all the rest. Was he ever going to catch a break? Sabertooth's execution hadn't been his call! Hell, the big, life long enemy, and totally insane prick hadn't even been the better, nicer, and supposedly saner mutant Blink had known on a different dimensional world! As far as anyone knew, that particular version of Creed was still alive somewhere! Pixie had never really forgiven him for splitting away from Cyclops' Utopia years ago either, let alone the death of Nick Fury's side kick, but dammit! That guy had died fighting over a year ago! And it wasn't his fault that the Shield and Sword agents in combat alongside the Avengers and X-Men had been caught in that last big nuclear blast on the Shadowbox Empire's home world!

Why couldn't all these gals on Earth 616 blame Nick Fury, Captain America, and Ironman? Hell, they had been in charge of the frigging attack! Logan had only followed orders! But NO! They all simply blamed him because he had been the only one to survive? What a crock! Shit. Hulk MIGHT have survived too, and just been blown into another dimension. Who knew? After all, that damned nuclear missile had been sitting on top of an activated shadow box, and Hulk had been known to punch his way across dimensional boundaries when angry enough, right? Why not blame the Hulk? It made as much sense! Damned war. It had not only screwed up every relationship Logan had ever had, it had certainly screwed up his already totally failed love life since to boot.

Logan could hear the gabbling murmur and growls of the subterraneans who had entered the building through the claw unlocked front door and had started to fan out. Some of the Moloids, a lot actually, had already started up the stairs, following the scents of live human meat. Damn, they smelled bad! And his last two beers had just snagged upon the wall bracket of the stair's bannister to be jerked out of their plastic collars and fall down four flights? Crap! Damn! Damn! Crap! His Molson Beer being drunk by Moloids? That was downright sacrilegious!

A scowling Clarice Ferguson and Ava'Dara teleported in behind Jessica and Danielle on the roof. They arrived just as Logan burst through the roof's access door. He slammed it shut, thumped his broad back against the metal door, and braced his muscular legs to absorb and keep back a soon expected heavy push. Clarice was dressed in casual gray sweats, white sneakers, and a had quiver of portal spears slung on her back. Ava'Dara was in her usual black and silver, Shi'ar warrior battle gear complete with her gleaming sword already drawn and held against Clarice's throat. From the sour look Clarice was sending sideways at Ava, the Shi'ar threatening the balking teleporter with extreme bodily harm if she didn't help Logan out was NOT sitting well at all.

The avian alien Ava'Dara, having her usual tangy, lemony smell about her, roughly released her teleporting captive, and leaped to stand next to Logan while turning to give the angry Blink an unreadable stare. No love lost there, Logan winced. Not even mutual respect. Gonna be fighting his way off this damn roof, no doubt about it.

Unconcerned, even pleased, the Shi'ar shook herself to quickly loosen her muscles. Swept back from her oval face by her black war helmet, Ava's long, white feathered locks rustled about her shoulders as she made small keening sounds to ready herself for battle. She sounded and looked as if she was a large, predatory, and very hungry bird shaking out her wings in preparation for launching skyward and then swooping down upon her chosen prey.

"Clarice!" Logan half shouted in mixed relief. After all, Blink HAD come, under duress and pissed off about it to be sure, and she obviously intended to hang his and the almost equally disliked Warbird's butts out to dry for the Moloids to feast upon, but at least she was here.

"They're Jessica and Danielle Cage! Luke's family! Take them back to the school! They're not registered! Hide them from bounty hunters until I can get back and get them legal! If I don't make it back to the school within twelve hours, have Storm call Matt Murdock to help them!"

Blink, still very unhappy at being forced to come here against her will, just silently stared daggers at him while making no move to obey.

"Oooooh! Look Momma! A bird woman!" Danielle exclaimed in childish delight while peering with total fascination into Ava'Dara's pale gray eyes. "The Green Lady called her to help Unca Logan just like she told me she would! But she's so beautiful! And she has such pretty flowers in her heart too! OH! I LIKE her, Momma!"

Jessica's head silently swiveled in open mouthed concern, bafflement, and confusion between Danielle, Logan, and the Warbird. All right! This Green Lady business was officially FREAKING her out now, but this was NOT the time to ask questions! She turned to scowl at the angry looking teleporter behind her. Either they would be whisked out of here, or Jessica was going to launch airborne and fly herself and Danielle to safety. She could call Logan at the school tomorrow to accept the job, if he survived.

"Clarice, dammit!" Logan tried again. "This is a mom and kid that need protection! Lighten up and help them!"

"Why didn't you even TRY to help Mister Creed?" Blink demanded, still not moving.

"He wasn't YOUR Mister Creed dammit! How many times I gotta tell ya? Sabertooth of Earth 616 was tried and found guilty for being the insane, serial killing, woman hating, depraved, and totally sick sonofabitch that he's been on this planet for over a hundred years! He would have raped you and ripped you apart afterward if he'd gotten the chance! You want proof? Fine! I can get you a copy of the High Council's final review files! We ain't got time for this now! Look! Clarice! I'm not the total prick you think I am, but you can forget about me and Ava! Just get Jess and Dani safe!"

This dimensional version of Clarice Ferguson, still glaring daggers back at him with her hands angrily jammed upon her hips, finally let out a big sigh and nodded. Okay. Jessica and Danielle she would help. Clarice was a former Exile from Earth 295, and although she had the exact same light magenta skin, pupiless, pale green eyes, pointed elf ears, and dark pink hair, she wasn't quite the much colder hard case as her Earth 616 Blink counterpart. She yanked a portal spear from the quiver carried on her back and began a throwing motion between her, Jessica, and Danielle.

"No! Wait!" Jessica began in horror at just leaving Logan and the alien female Warbird behind. Danielle also let out an unhappy yelp for her Unca Lo... just as the three of them audibly blinked away.

"Commander, this is a most fortuitous opportunity for us," Ava'Dara's lips were pulled back in a pleased smile of anticipation as she took a fighting stance with her sword held low in her right hand. Her light gray eyes were gleaming, almost glowing with battle lust and maybe something else Logan didn't know about.

"After fighting alongside my Shi'ar companions in the Wars but once again sent back to my former assignment on Earth 616, I have been largely shunned and very lonely at the Jean Gray school. And very bored as well as confused about my future on your world. I have constantly wondered why my former Lord Gladiator forcibly freed me from his service before completing our species' customary bonding rituals. While contemplating and meditating for months upon the reasons for my assigned fate under your command, a voice from within me has observed that I have been too long away from the true serving needs of a Shi'ar Warbird, Deathbringer Class. I have since concluded that my former lord in the Shi'ar Imperium has meant for me to be a new bridge in intergalactic relations between the Shi'ar and Terrans.

"Since your return from that final battle, Commander Logan, I have observed that your male reproductive organ has been reacting favorably in my presence, especially when I deliberately bend over in front of you, displaying and wiggling my hind parts to test your male mating instincts. I too for some time have been feeling heated in your presence while giving you those prolonged peeks at my throbbing genitalia. Therefore, please open the door and allow this low vermin to meet their mortal fates! Let my blade and your manly claws drink deeply of their blood as we slaughter our foes together and raise our body temperatures to battle lust levels. After our victory, I will then be hot and ready to engage in the prolonged and lusty bonding ritual of a Shi'ar Warbird with you in many positions of mutual fulfillment!"

The first Moloids slammed against the roof access door. Blinking in astonishment at Warbird's sudden albeit prolonged and somewhat stilted invitation for hot sex, and not catching any of the implications of it, Logan thought things over for a very brief moment, shrugged in agreement, and leaped away while popping his metallic claws. Snikt! What the hell? Ava had been and was now very bored, lonely, AND horny away from the Shi'ar Imperium? And was now spoiling for a good fight? Okay! Well, he hadn't gotten laid in a LONG time either. And quite frankly, now that he thought about it, the unreasonably "blaming him for all their sorrows" X-Women and female Avengers could just go screw from now on too. The Warbird was a real beauty comparable to any of them, even Storm! Hot damn!

The door banged open to literally vomit a horde of short, naked, unarmed, pasty skinned, spindly legged, pointy eared, bald, and bulgy eyed humanoids. Growling and snapping their sharp teeth, they swarmed across the rooftop as more of their fellow creatures boiled through the door in what looked as if it might be a never ending stream. Back to back, Logan and Warbird began hewing and hacking away at the mass of grasping hands and bared teeth trying to fasten upon and overwhelm them by sheer dint of numbers.

It was only a few moments before Logan felt the old familiar surge of feral red eyed battle fury come upon him, and with an earsplitting roar, he simply went stabbing and slashing berserk to the delight of the alien female fighting behind him. Ava'Dara leaped about in her own unleashed skewering and cutting battle frenzy while trying to shift and keep her Commander's back covered. They simply mowed through the attacking horde of Moloids; body parts, entrails, and gore flying everywhere. Suddenly, the rearmost broke and fled back down the building's stairwell to leave the roof covered in a bloody carnage of dismembered limbs, heads, and eviscerated torsos. None of the remaining gory pieces of Moloids now strewn thigh deep upon the old office building's roof were moving. They were all as dead as they had left the building and street below last night.

Served them right, Logan growled to himself as he let his claws retract, since they had probably drunk his beer on the way up before attacking. And if the rest of 'em were all that hungry, there was a ready made cannibal smorgasbord for tonight's entree waiting for 'em up here. He also noticed that the stark scene of death on the roof now perfectly matched the noir ambiance of the gloom filled street below. Good. He had done his bit for urban renewal in the Big Dried Apple then. Once he reported the Moloids being active in SoHo, the I.D.P. would come in and purge the whole damn district and get it reopened for business soon.

Panting happily, wiping and sheathing her sword, and not caring one whit for SoHo's business future, Ava'Dara snagged Logan's arm and spun him towards her for a tight, blood spattered embrace. She ducked her head to let her full soft lips and long strong tongue thoroughly claim his while beginning a sensuous grind of her battle heated body upon his heavily muscled and sweating frame. Her actions were so hotly intense that the thought of just what a Shi'ar Royal Warbird bonding ritual actually meant and entailed never crossed Logan's mind.

"Take me now, Commander Logan!" The still heavily panting Ava'Dara hissed between clenched teeth. "Up against the door which opened and provided us with such perfect pre-bonding stimulation and body heat! Use your claws to uncover my hot female parts and excite me further! After we have bonded, we can fight our way back to your four wheeled vehicle and resume intense copulation in the back seat before heading to the nearest hotel! Later still, on our way back to the Academy, we should also buy a case of your favorite Molson Beer to replenish fluids lost and celebrate our victorious night and future! It should also help spur further furious coupling in my school quarters upon our return until we both collapse in exhaustion!"

Now what kind of idiot had he been since the war ended, Logan briefly wondered as he totally missed the implications of what she was saying. He simply felt an instant stiffening response in the crotch of his jeans from her hot breathing in his ear and continued grinding against him. He had been so caught up in this damned House of L business and stupid battle blaming backlash from everyone that he had missed Ava'Dara's almost equally ostracized, friendless, yet sexy as hell, casual sex buddy signals? He really WAS a total moron! Well, no longer! Anyone giving him any more unreasonable grief, especially the cool and too snooty X-Women, would just get the bird thrown in their faces! Screw 'em!

Logan silently slammed the taller but lighter, slimmer, long legged, beautiful, and curvaceous avian alien warrior back up against the wall as she had requested and popped the claws on his right hand to shred her clothing. Huh. Not only large and perfect breasts, everything else about her was perfectly humanoid except for the long train of white feathers growing from her head and the much smaller but just as pretty white pubic ones. And she smelled absolutely great too, almost as intoxicating as a heavy Molson buzz at closing time.

Ava's strong fingers quickly unbuttoned his jeans and yanked the zipper down. Freeing her desired target from his black boxer briefs and gasping with sheer delight at the unexpected length and girth of it, Ava'Dara Naganandini, former soldier of the Shi'ar Imperium, wrapped her long, naked, muscular legs around her most worthy fighting commander's waist. She sank down to physically and psychically initiate the ultimate bonding in interplanetary and galactic relationships. It was also the beginning of the hours long, ancient ritual of her irrevocable imprinting as a Shi'ar Royal Warbird, Deathbringer Class, to the strong fighting male picked by the Shi'ar royalty to be her only life mate and Royal Master, the one she had been born and trained since childhood to always serve and protect for the rest of her life.

Having no clue as to what was actually occurring other than some really hot and vigorous sex, and his psychic senses dulled from the extreme pleasure he was experiencing, Logan let the good time roll. Spurred on by her enthusiastic passion, he set about satisfying the rest of the imprinting female Shi'ar warrior's plans for a hot date night as she began shrieking in high pitched, bird trilling, orgasmic delight. His part and cooperation in Ava's future plans for a continued hedonistic night together didn't really require any more conversation, explanation, nor further thoughtful consideration either. She was going off in multiple orgasms, and who was he to deny a willing gal those?

The interview with Jessica Cage had turned out a whole lot more successful than what he had initially thought and constantly worried over too. Now that they were safe and soon to be registered, Logan was pretty sure she'd take the House detective job now, if for no other reason than to keep Danielle with her. Mission accomplished. The subsequent fight and now getting hot laid afterward was just a pretty damn nice side bonus for a day's good work, any way a low life fella like him looked at it. There was also a near future case of Molson Beer in the mix. Things had gone so well tonight there was no reason to change his style or keep second guessing himself for getting things done in the future either. He would stick with what had always worked from now on as he got the House of L operational, and just not worry about future problems. After all, he had ALWAYS been a Molson man. It's who he still was and would always be. Logan just didn't know he was now becoming a Shi'ar Royal Warbird's lifelong mate and master too.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's note: Since this maybe a little too lengthy chapter has a multiple cast of Marvel characters and for those readers who aren't all that familiar with them, I'm using images and information found at comicvine . com for Elektra, Warbird, Mystique, Emma Frost, Jessica Jones Cage (Jewel), Shuriken, Carol Danvers, Lea Strange, Scarlet Witch, Shi, Pale Flower, Lady Bullseye, and Danielle Cage. If interested, type these names in the search field to get more in depth descriptions and their different images. For more Sekirei information, character backgrounds, and images, in this chapter for Miya Asama, use the search field at__ the Sekirei wikia link in my profile...(I suck at putting hotlinks in these chapters)_

**House of L**

**Chapter 3 – Elektra and Miya Asama – Interviews Blues**

"Why am I here?" She spoke softly, almost to herself. There was anger, confusion, and more than a little dread in her almost whispered words that were instantly snatched away by the chilly autumn breeze. She felt angry because she had allowed herself to be moved by feelings of old loyalty and stupid new daydreams to become the head of security for the new House of L; stuck working with two highly despised and mutually hating females. She also felt confused because somehow within her she KNEW she had to be here. Some immensely powerful force greater than any other she had ever known had demanded for her to be here, a psychic force that could not be defied even though she had resisted and banished the All Consuming Beast of Ancient Evil that had corrupted The Hand and even her forever lost love Matt Murdoch, the Daredevil. The dread she was feeling was because she very greatly feared one possible answer to her question. Had she been brought here to just age, waste away, and die; cold, cold hearted, alone, and loveless?

"I am Elektra Natchios! Why am I HERE!" she spoke louder and in a more demanding tone to the wind, rustling trees, and large, wave tossed lake before her. She ground her teeth together, determined that her rigid inner center of self control would overcome her anger, confusion, and fear to get her answer. She was a past ruler of The Hand, a female warrior with very few equals, none human, and a former highly paid assassin whose cold killing skills were only rivaled by Logan the Wolverine. He had paid his blood debt to her for taking down The Hand and then helping her clear her name after the invading Skrull had used an imitation of her to kill thousands. He had also helped her save Matt Murdoch's soul from the Ancient Evil's demonic possession in the Shadowland. Just before the Shadowbox Wars had begun, Logan had then killed Wilson Fisk, The Kingpin, who had succeeded Murdoch as The Hand's leader. The Ancient Evil Beast was no more, but Murdoch had once again rejected any kind of life with her since, just as, broken hearted anew, she had rejected Logan's prewar offer of beginning a fresh new future with him. She hadn't seen him since, so why had she felt so compelled by some powerful entity to take this job when he had asked?

Logan, although quieter, unsmiling, more withdrawn, and surly nowadays, if that was possible, was still the same honest, dependable, brutally blunt, incredibly courageous, totally loyal, angst ridden, emotionally complex, and almost ridiculously honorable and noble Samurai type Logan she had always known. But now? Logan and his new, damned private prison were approaching surreal. Why had he asked, and why had she felt so overwhelmingly compelled to agree to be a part of this almost utter, stifling, I.D.P. madness? Why had she agreed to become a part of the House of L without thinking it over a little better? Logan hadn't shown one sign that he was interested in renewing any personal relationship with a woman who had rejected him. Now look at her. Stuck on a hill overlooking a coastal New York lake, having a lot of unhappy second thoughts about being here, and talking to herself? Logan had called. She had come like a repentant fool. What if this shit job was just Logan's revenge for her rejection of him years ago? She had certainly felt revengeful towards Matt Murdoch for years. Now she was demanding answers about Logan and his motives from the wind like the silly fool schoolgirl she had been in decades past, and the wind was mocking her with its silence?

To be fair, aside from her anger, confusion, and dread, there was something about a sunny yet breezy autumn afternoon in Westchester, New York that was simply resonating in a yin and yang fashion within the depths of her unhappy but now employed assassin's soul. She actually liked where Logan lived, but she totally hated/needed the reason for why he had brought her here; The House of L, or as that nasty, sharp tongued bitch Emma Frost mockingly called it, Jubilee's Ongoing Karma Effect on Logan, the J.O.K.E. on L, a chaotic nut house in the making that was promising even more extreme chaos for everyone soon, especially any new head of security.

Yet, Logan had sought his long time fellow assassin and used to be more than a friend out and asked for her to come here and take the job, pleaded actually. He had not known how much her cold assassin's heart had been warmed by simply seeing him again after being so long apart. When he had knocked on Misty Knight's small apartment door, once opened there stood Logan; the same angst ridden, little boy lost, always broken hearted, utterly faithful to those he cared about while fighting his feral beast within for control, Logan. He had asked for her help. Something powerful had instantly swept over and through Elektra to make her agree, but now? Now she wanted answers to why she had been swept into his madness.

True, even if the new job was already maddening, she was mildly pleased at simply working again, finally, because there just hadn't been much call for highly experienced, female ninja assassins of Greek descent since the I.D.P. had taken iron control of Earth 616. The private and even criminal need for a kunoichi, and she had simply been the best, had quickly dried up and stayed that way when the war weary yet grimly determined "to keep the hard won peace" armed forces had come home and established new strict laws and even stricter penalties. Also, she had absolutely refused to be a bounty hunter of unregistered and frightened mutant women and children.

Caught in a bad financial state due to the stock and bond markets crashing during the Shadowbox Wars, Elektra had lost everything of value including mansions and villas to pay the sudden bad investment stock calls and avoid the new bankruptcy prisons. She had literally almost starved afterward, too proud to ask for charity from what very few friends were still alive. Then, the quickly constructed House of L had needed a security chief; a well paid and compensated chief with a free place to stay and free food. So she was here in bloody Westchester, going slowly nuts, and living nearby was the last person on Earth 616 who truly understood and appreciated her for who and what she was, even if he was still a lovable yet bona fide sonofabitch; the one she should have married years ago when she had the chance and blew it. That missed "what if" had haunted her ever since to find her here in Westchester to see if it could be changed as well as earn her way back to financial health.

As it was now, and thanks to whatever spiritually disturbing force that had been manipulating her, she was at least making a steady living thanks to Logan's pull with the High Council. Yet there was, and would no longer be, any true freedom of movement about the planet for her, no thrill of the hunt, no danger from any cornered and vicious prey, nor exorbitant pay for killing services rendered. This damn chief of security job was really a huge, boring come down from her assassin's high action, high reward past. On the other hand, trying to keep Mystique and Emma Frost from verbally assassinating each other and her during simple, security staff hiring interviews had proved rather dramatic already. She wanted to slit both of their throats and probably would if they kept it up. Future skills testing of job applicants would probably be almost equally as dangerous, and Logan's damned prison wasn't even operational yet.

Still wondering again why she had accepted Logan's job offer so readily, Elektra untied the red silk bandana wrapped around her head that kept her thick, coarse, very curly black hair out of her face and away from the handle of the sheathed katana slung on her back. She shook her head vigorously to loosen her long wavy tresses that flowed almost to the top of her still toned and rounded buttocks. She turned her light blue eyes to contemplate the rustic appeal of Logan's cabin. Why hadn't she turned down this shit job and just simply asked him to let her live with him? Logan might have acquiesced simply out of his high sense of honor, but pride and a silly schoolgirl fear of possible rejection had stopped her despite the unknown spiritual entity pushing so many emotionally charged places in her heart to bring her here. She should have said yes to him years ago instead of turning him away. Now she was stuck, absurdly feeling horny whenever she saw him, longing for him, and wishing she could shed her damnable pride as easily as she had taken off her bandana.

Damn, you Logan, she groused internally, at least you could have picked a warmer spot. Why didn't you build I.D.P.'s miserable House of L on a Caribbean island? And built a nice villa overlooking a tropical beach where you could have lived together with Tyger Tiger as you had planned once decades ago in Madripoor? At least then I could have more easily found a way to wander into your bedroom wearing a very skimpy bikini and/or nothing but a smile.

Note to self, Elektra grimaced as the chilly fall breeze formed goosebumps between the gaps of the loosely wound, red leather straps she used for nominal arm protection. Dress warmer. Her present all red leather outfit consisted of her trademark knee high boots, leather thigh sheaths for her pair of bladed sai swords, and her brief torso covering that most resembled a high cut, a one piece bathing suit. This fighting ensemble, she shivered slightly, was not a wise choice for autumn's cool weather. The twin headlights noticeably showing through the leather covering over her full breasts and more goosebumps on her muscled thighs were strong arguments for breaking out her fur winter gear now. She even had a tie down fur hat that would take over the hair restraining duties from her red bandana.

Being broke, in debt, and virtually homeless except for the largesse of her Heroes for Hire friend Misty Knight might possibly explain her quick positive answer to Logan's job offer, but she was really having second thoughts about it. Dammit! Why hadn't she just asked to be his latest mistress instead? She had always had a very fond spot for Logan in her otherwise stone cold, assassin's heart. After all, Logan was the only man she had ever taken home to meet her family, and she had always known he was a better and more compatible lover than the twisted, unfaithful, Squirrel Girl screwing Matt Murdock.

Another little secret of hers was that for some weird reason she was continually finding herself dreamily soaking in long hot baths a lot lately, imagining it was Logan's hands washing and rubbing her, not her own. She, Elektra Natchios, horny as she had been lately, could have at least kept Logan from banging that insufferable Shi'ar Warbird creature, and stayed comfortably warm and cozy and fondly cared for while doing it too. She'd kill Ava'Dara too except the freaking alien warrior was just too damn quick, wary, and Logan wouldn't like it. Just admit it, Elektra counseled herself darkly. It made no logical sense for her to be HERE.

Taking a welcome break from job interviewing and standing on the grassy knoll just past the larger red brick patio at the north end of the Jean Grey Academy for Higher Learning, Elektra once again let her senses explore the happy/bleak duality of her soul's resonance with her current surroundings. There was just the right amount of warmth from the sun to celebrate feeling alive, and yet, there was also the slight chill of winter's dormancy in the fall winds. She was appreciating the pure natural beauty of the pastoral, forest lined lake scene before her, but the three domed new prison and its fenced perimeter at the other end of the lake was very depressing despite the aesthetic beauty of their Shi'ar alien architecture.

In between, near the shore and amongst a small copse of trees, was Logan's small log cabin retreat, a rustic 19th century anachronism between the modern looking school and 21th century prison. The lake cabin was where he stayed in simple, self imposed solitude when he wasn't out tracking down and killing criminals for the I.D.P. without getting paid for it. Elektra oddly envied him. At least he had freedom of movement about the planet even if he was I.D.P.'s unleashed hound these days. She was leashed to a stinking library interviewing chair in between Mystique and Emma. Maybe it wasn't too late to ask Logan to let her stay with him in his cabin and kick that snooty Ava'Dara bitch out, feathers, swords, Shi'ar battle armor, and all. The price for that from Logan might only be a small chunk of pride from her too Greek and two sided soul. Should she ask him or not? What if he turned her down like she deserved?

Taking a deep breath and shaking off that last morbid thought, Elektra let herself simply revel in the sun's rays as she stared west out over Logan's large lake. Except for the academy on the south end and the House of L on the north, the mile long and almost half a mile wide body of water was nearly surrounded by trees in seasonal senescence and flaunting the peak hues of their fall foliage colors. The day's bright sunlight seemed to baste those trees with extra highlights of dazzle and contrast for Elektra's enjoyment. The brilliant scarlet leaves of the red maples, golden bronze of the hickories, the various deep red and russet colors of oaks, golden yellow of poplars, and even the light tans of a few scattered beech trees also seemed to gaily enhance the deep blue of the lake's waters and the virtually cloudless sky above. There was a fresh, crisp, natural country smell in the air, clean and pleasant to her nostrils, and yet, there was also that light chill in the afternoon breezes rustling the colored leaves and making small regular waves traverse the lake from the northwest to the southeast. Elektra enjoyed it all, and yes, it was so good to feel alive.

But, she sighed to herself, there was another side to this short break from security staff interviews for the House of L. The sights, sounds, and smells coming to her on the Academy's lakefront grassy knoll, although very beautiful and aesthetically pleasing, also meant cold winter was coming. The sun would live, but the leaves would die. The Earth would also live, and Elektra Natchios too was alive for now, but Elektra Natchios was also aging; slowly, inevitably, now loveless, and unless she made a move to rekindle and inflame old embers of mutual attraction with Logan, she would die alone.

Why had she chosen the fickle, unfaithful, and feckless Daredevil for her life's great love instead of the much more compatible, understanding, and faithful Logan the Wolverine? Everything about her and Logan's mutually violent past, especially both being killed and revived by The Hand, screamed at her stupidity in choosing the shallower blind superhero for a life mate and basically rejecting Logan's truer and utterly loyal heart who would have made her happy. Now she was paying the price for that dumb decision. Murdock wanted nothing to do with her. Logan had since moved on. The sober fact was that she was rapidly heading into the even lonelier autumn of her life, then isolated winter, and, unless killed again with no timely revival, also headed for her own eternal dormancy and placement in her family's ancient graveyard high upon an isolated rocky hill in Greece. There her bones would stay, marked only by a simple stone with her name and relevant dates of her birth and death, and no one to mourn a master assassin's passing. Not even Logan. NO! She didn't want to be alone anymore! But she had messed up badly and caused him to turn away from her! And he had the Warbird now! So why?

"WHY AM I HERE?" Elektra almost shouted out over the Academy's rear hillside in desperate exasperation.

"To find and give love forever and ever," the autumn winds unexpectedly whispered back so softly that she almost didn't hear, but Elektra certainly and plainly heard what followed as the rustling leaves on the surrounding trees added their chorus to the wind's reply, "and bear him a child."

Stunned, Elektra glanced excitedly about her in wide eyed amazement. A child? Her? Who or what had just answered her? With whom was she to find love and bear a child? Logan? Maybe? Was the deep cold loneliness of her assassin's past soon going to be over? Here? In the House of L? The damnable, maddening, frustrating House of L? A child! Her own child to love and be loved in return? With Logan? Was her recent strange, horny, longing dreams about him and her going to come true? Really? Yes, something overwhelmingly seemed to answer within her this time. Her anger, confusion, and dread of dying alone and loveless seemed to drain away as the certainty of that internal one word reply settled into her spirit. She would find deep, true love with Logan, have his child, and never be alone again. The autumn winds had spoken.

Sudden movement caught Elektra's eye and brought her totally nonplussed and yet now oddly calmed reverie to a halt. A feminine figure came slowly walking out of the trees surrounding Logan's empty and locked lake cabin. Now where had she come from? Logan had been away the past few days hunting down another escaped, old time ruthless criminal named Crossbones who had been marked by the I.D.P. for immediate termination. Elektra had watched Logan lock his cabin, and then give her, Ava'Dara, and an angrily frowning but silent Storm a curt goodbye before hoisting his traveling backpack over one brawny shoulder and being whisked away by an I.D.P. anti-grav flyer. No one was allowed to go into Logan's cabin while he was away, not even Ava'Dara. The Shi'ar perimeter fencing around Logan's entire estate and lake was finished and activated as well as the Sentinel robot guards. No intruder alert had sounded on Elektra's console inside the patio doors behind her. So how had this strange yet obviously nonbelligerent female gotten down there among those trees?

Elektra, sensing no immediate threat and supremely confidant in her fighting prowess, patiently watched as the curiosity filled newcomer slowly strolled uphill towards the Jean Grey Academy, pausing occasionally to calmly yet keenly look around as if experiencing Westchester, New York's natural autumn ambiance for the first time. She seemed particularly impressed with the intrinsic harmony being displayed by Mother Nature's natural beauty in the fall colors of the trees and the soothing, fen shui serenity of the regular waves moving across the lake. She then watched a red tailed hawk soar in lazy figure eights above the far shore for several minutes, apparently just enjoying the sight of the large bird's natural freedom on the winds. The obvious mismatch of the futuristic looking House of L at the far end of the lake, the similar architecture of the Jean Grey Academy on this end, and the totally archaic looking log cabin in the middle appeared puzzling to her, but finally acceptable after long study. She also seemed to take a keen interest in the immaculate landscaping around the Jean Grey Academy; especially the flower garden Logan had grown around the base of Jean's statute/grave marker in the grassy knoll's graveyard.

The stranger cocked her head sideways in an almost birdlike manner to study all the old and now obviously newer X-Men grave markers. She slowly strolled past and around the final resting places of Charles Xavier, Nightcrawler, and Colossus, then walked past almost two dozen more graves as well as the one placed a little to one side, Magneto. She paused briefly before each one as if listening to some brief eulogy being given by an unseen admirer before coming back to focus at some length on Jean Grey's statue again. Now what was this all about? An unknown, once friend or foe of the X-Men coming to pay last respects maybe? Or some traveler from the future perhaps, coming to study ancient history, or vice versa? Or even a cross dimensional visitor coming to honor Earth 616's dead heroes and/or villains depending on which particular Earth she had as an origin. That might explain how she had gotten past the high security features of Logan's estate perimeter, but wasn't inter dimensional travel strictly regulated these days, and time travel absolutely forbidden?

Elektra's eyes narrowed in experienced appraisal as this heretofore undetected, interloping female began a more steady walking approach up the manicured lawn of the grassy knoll. She moved like a well trained dancer/fighter from the fluidity, grace, and careful yet unconscious placement of her steps. The fall breezes were making the strange looking woman's very long, tied back, lavender colored hair waft almost playfully about her. Casually wearing a long gray cloak reaching to her knees and with her thigh high black leather boots, Lavender Hair seemed to be better dressed for the cool weather than Elektra. The approaching female was also wearing a shape clinging, long sleeved, black mini dress that had two thin, longitudinal white stripes running from her shoulders down to the dress's wide brown hem. The bottom of that hem ended above her boots to expose about a hand's width of her smooth, white, yet definitely muscle toned thighs. Well, talk about being climate prepared, Elektra thought in half envy. Lavender Hair was also wearing black half gloves that only exposed her fingertips. Whoever she was, she was dressed weather smart in kind of a subtle but classy, ancient sorcerer's apprentice and/or Paladin traveling knight style

Wait a second. On her left hip. Hidden by the long and almost enveloping cloak. Was that a katana? Yet another Japanese swords-woman? Sent by whom this time? The long sheathed katana was attached to a brown leather belt that was slung low over Lavender Hair's lithe yet very shapely hips. She was right handed then, and most probably familiar with at least Iaido style Japanese sword fighting from the position she kept the katana's handle. Interesting. Another applicant seeking House of L security guard employment? What was the significance of the unknown black, bird like emblems on both shoulders of her gray cloak? Elektra half growled in disgust. Don't tell me she's another Shi'ar Warbird type trying to feather Logan's log cabin nest. Well, at least she had hair instead of feathers. Elektra smoothed her own heavy locks behind her and retied her red silk bandana while channeling her inner chi for possible battle. The approaching stranger appeared non threatening, but long experience and natural wariness said to be prepared for anything.

Coming fearlessly towards Elektra, Lavender Hair wore a small calm smile while observing Elektra's clothing and weapons with interest. She stopped perhaps twenty paces from the Academy's brick patio, saying nothing as Elektra moved slightly to reposition her feet to defend against any sudden attack. The two warrior women stood eying each other in silence, the afternoon breeze swirling their hair, the long ends of Elektra's red silk bandana, and the newcomer's cloak. For her part, Elektra was almost fascinated by the unknown female's slightly almond shaped and oddly colored lavender eyes as well as the perfectly oval and overall symmetrical beauty of her face. Her body's slender yet curvacious figure was also perfection. It was as if she had put in some kind of DNA design order for the absolute best mix of feminine sexiness achievable by the human form that could also be used for total sword fighting speed and lethality. She made the taller, more robustly built and muscled Elektra feel a little outsized and wary, the same way that damnable Shi'ar Warbird Ava'Dara made her feel. Lavender Hair finally bowed her head slightly for a polite formal greeting.

"Good afternoon," she said softly in stilted English. "I am Miya Asama. I am looking for Logan-san and was told I could most probably find him here."

"Greetings, I'm Elektra Natchios," Elektra returned with a slight noncommittal bow of her head and very cool tone, but her previously calmed heart was roiled anew. Had the autumn winds been cruelly teasing her? Was this a new rival for Logan's love? Dammit! There were too many already!

"I'm afraid Logan isn't here now, Miya-san, or at least he wasn't when I came out here to take a break. He has just recently begun giving updates of his schedule to Ava'Dara. She is inside, and if you would like, I'll let you ask her about his plans. If you are looking for a security job at the House of L, then we are conducting interviews for those positions today. You can attend to that without him actually being here by getting in line. If you simply wish to kill him, then I suggest you get in line for that also, but I doubt you'll have much success in the attempt."

"I assure you I'm here to kill no one," Miya's smile expanded somewhat in surprised amusement. "Logan-san is …a recent acquaintance... one that I would like to meet and learn more about if he would be willing and not burdened by my presence."

"Okay," Elektra shrugged in fake unconcern. Shit! Another sudden rival for Logan's affections just as she had guessed! And younger! Damned stupid wind! "From the way you're dressed and armed and moved I just assumed you had been sent here for a job like the others."

"The others?" Miya's head cocked in quick interest. "Others like me are here? Job hunting?"

"Yes, several," Elektra nodded before frowning slightly in natural/jealous feminine curiosity. "Have you arranged for a place to stay during your visit here? Got any money? Luggage?"

"Well, no, I haven't," Miya's eyebrows went up at this. "I, I hadn't given much thought as to how long I would be here. Another, ummm, acquaintance arranged my travel, and from the way it was explained, I just assumed I would be staying with Logan-san during a very short visit today."

"You'd have to get in line for that too," Elektra sighed a little too heavily to hide her disgust at being presented with another younger and much prettier rival. "It's taken a little time since the end of the dimensional wars, but it seems that the universal light has finally went on all of a sudden for Logan's other past female, ummm, acquaintances; mutant, augmented, AND human. There are very darned few powerful males still alive to chose a future mate from. Logan is by far the best in almost every way, but a few days ago he put a VERY protective Shi'ar Royal Warbird, Deathbringer Class, in charge of his social schedule. That's the Ava'Dara I mentioned earlier, and it may take a while to get past her. She's also the reason for the universal light being turned on about Logan as well as a lot more stand in line anger at him. There's been a giant increase in feather related jealousy around here too."

"I see," Miya frowned in worried thought. Logan had already bonded avian females to him here? Who? Had other Sekirei come here before her? Kazehana maybe? Uzume? Matsu? And the Twins? What was a Shi'ar Royal Warbird?

"Ummm, Elektra-san, you said there are others like me here? They may be, ummm, friends. Where are they staying? And are they also inside now?"

"Yes, all the Asian weapon users are inside. Uhhh, look, it's up to you, but it might be a few days before Logan returns, and his lake cabin is off limits to everyone, even Ava'Dara. All job applicants are being temporarily housed for free in whatever Academy empty dorm rooms are available. Meals are free also. You would have to fill out a job application form and do your first interview this afternoon before you could see Kitty Pryde, Rachel Grey, or Storm for an Academy billet tonight. Skills testing will start being conducted in the next few mornings for all applicants that are interview approved, but quite frankly, we haven't turned anyone away, yet. If you intend to apply and stay around, then you might want to ask Storm to loan you a few credits and take you to a nearby shopping mall for some personal hygiene items and a change of underwear or two. Tell me. What Japanese sword fighting style do you use?"

"Ummm, my own?" Miya answered while obviously distracted by still thinking over her hazy immediate future. "I mean, I'm, ummm, familiar with all of them, Japanese, Korean, Chinese, and Southeast Asian, but, uhhh, I've found some movements are just too slow to be used effectively. I've sort of blended what works best for my speeds."

"Really?" Elektra's eyes narrowed in renewed interest. Just how fast was this lavender haired Asian chick? Fast enough to maybe challenge a too obstructive Shi'ar Warbird, Deathbringer Class? Skills testing might become very intriguing if it would wipe that smugly superior look off a certain alien Warbird's face. Or maybe not since Logan's loyalty to a new bed mate was basically unlimited until she betrayed or took it too lightly. Elektra knew that all too well. Well, testing would at least be more entertaining than listening to Mystique and Frost constantly snipe at each other. And if this Miya could knock the key to Logan's bedroom door out of the Warbird's hands?

"Come inside Miya-san," Elektra invited in a polite tone while opening the glass paned, white, double patio doors behind her. "I believe Ava'Dara has ordered hot green tea to be made. You can observe the application process if you're interested while we drink it. You can also meet the other applicants and see if they are your friends."

Miya stood with a half frown as if trying to listen for a voice, her cool looking lavender eyes searching about also. After several long moments, she bowed her head politely and preceded Elektra into a large library where the four walls were lined floor to ceiling with oak bookcases filled with archaic looking books. There was a line of temporary tables to the left with a small computer displaying 3D holographs to two females restrained in floating prison chairs. One prisoner had bright red hair, dark blue skin, and yellow eyeballs with no pupils. The other seated female prisoner was apparently human with platinum blonde hair and light blue eyes. Both of these chair bound women wore dark green prison jumpsuits and a strange looking, glowing metal collar around their necks. Two armored female security guards lounged patiently in padded black leather chairs along the wall behind the row of tables.

A third human woman, brown hair, brown eyes, no collar, not bound, wearing a casual brown shirt, blue jeans, and a name tag of Jessica Jones Cage sat beside the blonde. Two more computers displayed 3D conference call images with two other official looking female heads who were chatting amiably about some child named Danielle with Jessica, all three waiting patiently for the afternoon's interviews to resume. Along the opposite far wall, ten females, all in various types of fighting outfits, sat diffidently in padded leather chairs, some conversing in low tones about the various weapons being carried among their group and the rest just quietly waiting their turn. Miya immediately saw that none were her Sekirei friends, and the disappointment was slightly reflected in her features.

A large oak door to the far right was opened by a very impressive looking female in what appeared to be a glossy black/polished metal battle suit. Her long, butt length hair was actually a very full train of white feathers that was held back from her white eyes by an open faced, partial, rear curving, black helmet. She carried two sheathed swords on her back, and in her arms she was holding a very thick, over sized tome. She strode the length of the library with the heavy book, sidled past Miya and Elektra, thumped her burden down, and produced a small electronic notepad from some hidden uniform pocket before seating herself next to the blue skinned woman at the tables' end. Miya was very shocked at the amount of naked torso and extreme, well endowed cleavage the alien female was exposing and wondered if the shiny black leather outfit with it's polished metal reinforced joints was normal battle dress or some kind of ceremonial attire. In either case the taller, feathered humanoid female warrior was incredibly built, graceful, beautiful, and very impressive on several levels; physical, psychic, and absolutely no doubt in Miya's experienced assessment, very deadly in combat. Elektra nodded at Miya's questioning glance. Yes, THIS was Ava'Dara, Logan's Royal Warbird, Death Bringer Class.

"Any news of Logan maybe returning today?" Elektra asked the Warbird a little too brusquely, but the assassin's curt tone simply didn't register in the alien Shi'ar female's socially and emotionally stunted thinking.

"Be here later tonight. Doesn't know how late."Ava'Dara answered as flatly and concisely as if she were simply relaying deployment orders to a Galactic invasion fleet from her old command post on the main battle deck of the Shi'ar Super Destroyer, the Divine Principles of Immolation. Fortunately she had been promoted and transferred to the Lord Majestor's personal guard before that ship had met its doom upon the energy shields of the Kree frontier while chasing the Starjammers. Ava'Dara's answering tone to Elektra was still the same as if she were still on the Shi'ar ship's battle deck however. Target locked on. Fire pulse cannons en mass. Kill the enemy ship and Terran mutant crew. Scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast. Report from navigation. Our ship is too close to Kree energy fields. Oh, forget breakfast, we're all going to die now due to command error. Crap. Logan would be here sometime later tonight. Such was the monotone form of the Warbird's excitement in answering.

"Okay, good," Elektra shrugged at the Shi'ar lack of emotion. "Please advise him he has a visitor waiting if he gets here before curfew, and I need to talk to him too. We're ready for hot tea also."

"Acknowledged, Human," Ava'Dara nodded once, punched her notepad a few times, snapped two fingers on her right hand, and loudly demanded to the air in front of her, "Lackeys! Tea! Now!"

Two small, cigar smoking, dark blue, elf like creatures with long tails "bamfed" into view above the interview tables. They were carrying a large steaming tea pot and smaller cups on a trey. They silently put the tea set down in front of the Warbird and "bamfed" away as suddenly as they appeared.

"At least she's put the Fear of Something into THOSE crazy little blue fuckers," Elektra murmured half to herself in grudging admiration. The little, teleporting, lecherous, cigar stealing, beer guzzling, alien Bamfs had been making life virtually unbearable in the Academy for years after their initial cross dimensional infestation, especially if any female was undressing or taking a shower.

"I wonder how she did it? Well, anyway, let's get some tea, Miya-san. And just ignore shape shifting Mystique and Emma our super bitch telepath over there. They're wearing decapitating power inhibitors as well as locked into their prisoner chairs. They're both bitchy bark and no bite these days even if they are House administrative staff. Jewel's a pretty good egg though. You can sit on the small divan behind you and just observe for now. You look a little overwhelmed or disappointed maybe?"

"Yes, both actually," Miya replied softly at witnessing the total strangeness of Logan's home world. Other than the Woman in Green, she had never seen natural teleporters before, let alone little blue alien elves, blue skinned shape shifters with all yellow eyes, supertelepath blonde beauties, nor feather headed female warriors simply radiating enormous psychic/battle/sexual power. It was all rather intimidating as if she was some back country hick used to being top shark in the pond now suddenly dumped in a sophisticated city's much bigger ocean simply teeming with killer whales. She shook herself mentally over that last unnerving thought with its very badly mixed metaphors. She just needed to stay calm, observe, try to fit in, and wait to see Logan, not get worked up over being on such an alien planet.

"However hot tea is always welcome, Elektra-san. Thank you. I was hoping to find my friends in here, but apparently not."

"We had quite a few applicants this morning. Perhaps your friends are down the hall in the Academy. What were their names?"

"Kazehana, Matsu, Uzume, Akitsu, and Kochou."

"Hmmm. Those names don't ring a bell. Well, if you'd like to wait until I'm finished and not interested in applying for a security position, I'll help you look around the Academy before you have to leave and find lodging in town. Perhaps Logan will show up early enough and invite you to stay with him and the Warbird, but I personally wouldn't count on that too much. He tends to just come and go very unexpectedly and has for a very long time. Also, remember there's a local 9 p.m. curfew."

"Thank you. Then, I do believe I'd like to wait for him here as long as possible," Miya sighed slightly as she accepted a cup of hot green tea. Her facial expression remained somewhat puzzled, obviously out of her element and totally not expecting the situation in which she found herself. Elektra wondered again just who and what she was, and just why was she looking for Logan since she certainly wasn't acting like she was looking for a future lover. Wasn't undressed enough for it. Carefully pushing her cloak aside so as not to sit on it, Miya demurely perched on the divan's left arm to allow her katana to hang free.

For the next half hour she patiently listened to the interviewing panel of Elektra, the blue skinned Mystique, the blonde Emma Frost, the casually dressed Jessica Jones Cage, mutant battle name of Jewel, and the two conference calling, mutant female talking 3D heads named Songbird and Photon. They all asked the first applicant the usual job seeking questions. The computer automatically recorded everything by voice input and displayed relevant cross referencing material during each applicant's session.

The first job seeker was a tall, very beautiful, very shapely yet athletic looking, Asian female with very thick and long black hair. She wore a black, hefty cleavage exposing, spandex battle suit with several throwing stars attached to her torso, hips, and thighs. She introduced herself as Brittany Chien, mutant battle name of Shuriken. Immediately, the 3D computer hologram displayed her past family, school, military service, and weapons training history, her employment as a secret agent/mutant tracker for the old United States government as well as her cross dimensional battle records with the Exiles and Ultraforce. The display also highlighted, detailed, and displayed 3D video examples of her mutated psionic, energy manipulative, and enhanced physical powers as well as her fighting skills. Other details of her personal life were revealed as well, failed loves, her one child dying young, her "slight" temper problem during fighting, and on and on it went, until Mystique wearily asked the final question.

"Have you at any time been romantically or sexually involved with Logan, aka Wolverine, or accepted any gifts, favors, or special services from him that would lead you to believe you are now guaranteed a security job in the House of L?"

"No," Brittany Chien replied with a small frown of annoyance. "My abilities, powers, training, and experience speak for themselves. Nothing is owed to me, and I owe no one. Heard plenty about Logan, but I don't know the guy, not sure I've even met him. I simply need a job, a place to stay, and food to eat. Times are a little tough nowadays in case you didn't know it."

"Yes, we know," Elektra replied diplomatically while nodding her head in agreement. Oh how she hated desk work, pretending pleasantries, and forced officious interaction! "Unless there are no objections, no? Okay, Brittany you may proceed down the hall to see either Storm, Rachel Grey, or Kitty Pryde for your temporary room assignment here in the Academy. Dinner is at 7 in the cafeteria. If you pass our skills testing, reference checks, and final interview to be hired, permanent quarters will be assigned to you in the House of L when it's finished."

Pointing to the big book on the table in front of her, Ava'Dara called softly as Brittany turned to go.

"Shuriken, have you ever read the battle history of Lord Logan, my Royal Master?"

"Well, no," Brittany replied while her large, almond shaped, and very dark brown eyes slid to Elektra's. Was this another interview question? Hadn't she been dismissed? Was the alien female with white feathers for hair, totally silent until now, also part of the job application process? Elektra, very curious as to what the Warbird was doing here again this afternoon, gave a small shrug combined with a facial expression that seemed to say for Brittany to just go with it.

"I've certainly heard a lot of stories, and I know people who have fought with and against Wolverine, but no, I've never read that book."

"For a female human mutant, Shuriken, you have many very admirable and interesting qualities. Although Lord Logan has access to the Avengers' Infinity anti-aging drugs, I sense from your aura that your human mutation has natural healing powers to greatly enhance the longevity of your life. Are you yet fertile?" Ava'Dara leaned forward in intense interest as she made notes in what appeared to be a recruitment form page on her electronic notepad.

"My fertility is nobody's business but mine!" Brittany snapped bitterly before turning to leave and continuing over her shoulder while striding away. "My son is dead! And so is his father! I don't want my flawed genetics to kill another baby, and I will not be mocked like this!"

"Shuriken, if you met and mated in heated long term bonding with Lord Logan," Ava'Dara called again at the suddenly and highly agitated Brittany now literally stalking towards the library's exit in long angry strides, "would you be willing to explore the possibilities of being trained as a Royal Warbird, Deathbringer Class while breeding new and genetically superior warrior sons and daughters?"

Miya, not quite believing what she was hearing and seeing, simply watched silently as Shuriken didn't deign to answer, walked through the hall exit, and haughtily slammed the library's heavy oak door. The other job applicants along the far wall seemed bemused to say the least, a few of them then looking thoughtful as they pondered the implications of possibly receiving greatly increased lifespans from the Avengers' Infinity drugs in return for bonding and breeding with the Wolverine.

"Probably not your most socially diplomatic nor sensitive interactive moment, Ava dear," Emma Frost observed drily after a very long and poignant silence. "I'm actually surprised you didn't invite her out to hunt small game with you, eat it raw and unseasoned, or more civilly roast your kill over an open fire for dinner tonight. Perhaps you should enroll in Raven Darkholme's online class for socially unacceptable small talk, wit challenged repartee, low brow humor, and totally tiresome personal insults. Logan should attend too. It would probably be a vast improvement in social graces for him also."

"Why are you asking these useless and irrelevant questions now? You didn't say anything to any of the applicants in the morning session," Elektra turned to frown at the note taking Ava'Dara while completely ignoring Mystique's snarling invitation for Emma Frost to eat her unwashed underwear.

"I will review my notes on the morning candidates, especially on Colleen Wing, but at the time none of the morning females felt extraordinarily qualified," Ava'Dara replied with a totally deadpan and no nonsense expression.

"Also, my recent questions to Shuriken may sound useless and irrelevant for pathetically short life females like you and Emma Frost, but know this, Human. You and Frost won't even be an unwelcome afterthought in my Lord Logan's memories a thousand years from now. Already for you both, your hair is going gray, your skin is wrinkling with age, and your body rapidly approaching menopausal infertility with statistically nonviable and damaged eggs for fertilization. Even Infinity drugs cannot reverse what has already been aged. A Royal Master like my Lord Logan should have a flock of young, vibrant, long living, and fertile Royal Warbirds like me to protect him and our new Ancestral Nest, breed warriors for the continuing of his Royal bloodline, and train our young warriors to continue our race into the far future. I am his first and am merely looking for those qualified and willing to join my new Warbird flock. Your interviewing process today with its depth of informational access is simply a timely efficient way to sift through possible recruits."

"That ought to shut shut your snarky, short life mouth, Emma, OLD darling," Mystique chortled at the darkly scowling and visibly shocked Emma. "Isn't it so gushingly nice to know how little your already skin wrinkled and gray haired dotage means to MY much, much longer future?"

The gloating Mystique's small verbal triumph didn't last long.

"You have very small odds for a longer future, insane blue skin," Ava'Dara observed flatly. If a Shi'ar Royal Warbird's facial features weren't exactly capable of emoting disdain, her next words to Mystique certainly did.

"Nor are you a possible Warbird recruit. Despite your odd mutated appearance, you do have healing, anti-aging powers, and would yet be fertile for centuries. You also have doughty fighting skills, killing instincts, and impressive mutant powers that would admirably suit a Royal Warbird. Yet, here you sit imprisoned in a chair with a particle beam cutting device around your neck that can be activated at any moment by the short tempered human Natchios; one whom you routinely insult because you are self hating insane. You dream, plot, and plan for outliving your current circumstances, but because of your self loathing insanity that breeds arrogant and belittling treatment of others, you will soon bring about your own self destruction and fail as you have consistently failed in every enterprise you have ever undertaken. Your near future death is a statistical certainty in your circumstances.

"In this alone you are totally unsuitable to be trained as a Royal Warbird. Added to this is your proclivity for unproductive mutual masturbation with other females as well as your utterly meaningless, demeaning, casual self abuse with males with which you are emotionally incapable of making enough mutual battle heat for a deep, lasting, and life satisfying permanent bond. You in many ways are not fit to breed future Royal warriors with Lord Logan, nor guard his new Ancestral Nest. I have studied human emotions, one of which is pity. I do believe you more than qualify for it, perhaps even more than the more pathetic Frost and Natchios females rapidly aging beside you."

"Freaking A! Talk about a total beat down!" Jessica Jones Cage breathed to herself as she stared at the shocked, open mouthed faces of Elektra, Mystique, and Emma Frost, all of whom were totally at loss for words. Songbird and Photon were simply shaking their 3D holographic heads in silent amazement also. Jessica swallowed hard. And her daughter Danielle insisted that the Warbird's heart flowers were beautiful? And was demanding regular play time with her and the damnable Logan too?

Miya was also simply staring at Ava'Dara, carefully considering what had been said. Although the bluntness of her words had been socially startling, was it possible that the Shi'ar Warbird shared some kind of ancient avian yet slightly divergent ancestry with the Sekirei from planet Kouten? Logan had consented for a flock to be formed with him as a Lord? Was a Shi'ar lord close to or the same as a Sekirei's bonded Ashikabi? As far as the Warbird herself, Miya found her brutal honesty and total self confidence almost refreshing.

"I don't recall anyone asking for your opinions of anyone, alien Warslut," Mystique recovered angrily, "nor for your presence here. We're conducting job interviews for security personnel for the House of L, not helping you feather Logan's kinky love nest with a harem now or a thousand years from now. Besides, it is well known that you've been spreading your legs for a lot of Earth's lower male life forms besides Logan since you arrived on Earth 616. Where do you get off judging anyone? Just leave, and take your silly ass history book about your fellow, fucking hypocrite Logan with you. Nobody's interested."

"Natchios asked. I answered. You commented. I corrected your comments and assumptions." Ava'Dara gave Mystique a dismissive flick of her left hand while leaning comfortably back in her chair. "You only demean yourself with childish name calling. It's also pitiful that you have to belittle others to bolster your own low self esteem. Casual youthful mating for mutual fun and tension release is totally acceptable in the Shi'ar Imperium. It ceases after an adult Royal Warbird shares mutual battle heat and permanent bonding with her Lord to become fertile. I was merely pointing out your crippled inability to achieve adult status and bonding due to your emotional self hating insanity. There may be flock possibilities among these job applicants. I'm staying. None of you have the ability to make me leave anyway. I suggest you go about your menial tasks. However, in the interests of time efficiency, I will merely note females I wish to question further when we're done. You have already been measured, found totally lacking, and need not be present in my private talks with the much better candidates later."

"Screw you, Shit Bird! Nobody asked you to measure ME for anything! Let alone my becoming some harem brood slave for that fucking prick Logan!"

"I also pity the meanness and petty smallness of your spirit that you've fostered within your heart, blue skin. I'm sure abandoning your own child to save yourself and killing your second one has hardened your twisted heart beyond repair. The fact that you took part in the plot for arranging Lord Logan to unwittingly kill his children speaks volumes for your current depravity and being unfit to know and enjoy the deep benefits of being a Royal Warbird. You well deserved your death sentence. In fact, I am entirely puzzled as to why Lord Logan would save you and give you any kind of position."

"I didn't KNOW about the part of the plan for Logan to kill his kids! And I tried to warn him when I found out, but the stupid blockhead wouldn't listen!"

"But you allowed yourself to be used for your part in the initial plot to cause him great harm, even relished in it. Still guilty," the Royal Warbird shook her head contemptuously, "and not deserving his listening to your warning because you've had zero credibility with him and everyone else for over a century. Still have none. And I believe totally unsuited to be an administrator in the House of L. Since you weren't executed as you deserved, true justice would at least see you caged inside there for ages until you wither into a weak, useless, unloved, dying old crone. At least Frost and Natchios will age and die much, much sooner."

Again, a very long silence followed Ava'Dara's infuriating reply. Mystique silently fumed in teeth clenched anger, visibly wishing she wasn't being restrained by her imprisoning chair. For once, the frowning Emma Frost was also maintaining her own counsel and like Miya Asama, carefully thinking over everything she had just heard. Growing old and dying in a cage was NOT what Emma Frost wanted at all. Finally, Ava'Dara simply gave Elektra a bored stare.

"Okay, fine, this is not getting our work done," Elektra rolled her eyes up toward the library's ceiling in long suffering while silently thinking, rapidly aging? Her still sexy rounded ass! Screw that feathered mouthy bitch! And she only had a very few gray hairs and no wrinkles! "Next applicant please."

Miya silently watched the lengthy interviews continue while keeping an eye on which individuals elicited any visible interest in Ava'Dara. One simply named Shi, or Death in Japanese, another named Pale Flower, and a third calling herself Lady Bullseye made the Warbird peer at each closely, nod to herself, and tap entries into her electronic notepad. Finally, after almost four rather tense but relatively uncontentious hours, broken only once by a short bathroom break, the afternoon's ten candidates had been interviewed. Elektra looked over at Miya with eyebrows arched. Did she want to join the job application process, braving the Warbird's scrutiny, or simply go look for her friends? Miya thought for a few seconds with her head cocked as if listening again, finally shrugged, stood up, and moved in front Elektra's center position at the interview tables. With no money and no assurance of Logan arriving in time, the simplest solution to make sure she had a place to stay and food to eat tonight was simply to apply. It didn't mean she would actually work.

"Astonishing. Another archaic ninja type, Elektra?" Emma Frost sighed wearily, her shoulders slumping in disappointment. "They seem to be as numerous as the gross looking hair on your upper lip. This one's cloak and unusually dyed hair are a different touch though, I must admit. Could we wrap this up quickly? I want out of this chair even if it's just to stretch out on my prison cell bed for a few minutes before dinner is served. And this jumpsuit itches."

"Please state your name, date of birth, registration number, occupation, and place of origin," Elektra sighed but ignored Emma after a quick glance and small smirk at the blonde's dried skin distress.

"I am Miya Asama from the Asakusa District of Tokyo, Japan. I have worked as an innkeeper. I don't know my date of birth, your computer's calendar dating is unfamiliar anyway, and I have no registration number."

Everyone's eyes went to the computer's 3D table display to see … nothing.

"You're not registered?" Mystique asked sharply.

"Registered with whom?"

"The Inter Dimensional Protectorate. You have never entered you date of birth, place of residence, banking code, medical card number, or driving permit with your local Asakusa authorities?"

"No," Miya shook her head slowly while showing no facial expression. "None of that information has ever been requested of me. I have never bothered to obtain a bank account for we can still use cash and barter where I live. It's a very old district. I don't drive either. No vehicle."

"I see, well, that's no deal breaker here. We can get you registered if hired. A lot of people, whole towns and neighborhoods actually, have slipped through the cracks since the I.D.P. took control, especially in Japan, but how did you get here today?" Elektra finally asked after a long pause. "And how did you get past the security perimeter and down by Logan's cabin earlier? And why are you looking for Logan in the first place?"

"A person, whom I suspect can fold space for instant travel and knows Logan well, volunteered to drop me off by his lake cabin for a short visit with him today. I was introduced to Logan recently, and quite frankly, I wanted to become better acquainted."

"This acquaintance that dropped you off is a teleporter, eh? That explains it. Songbird, make a note that our perimeter security sensors missed a teleporting event and have them checked for recalibration. Her arrival should have been detected. Jessica, we'll have to do a manual records and background search on Miya before formal hiring just like all the other Japanese applicants. So just what skills and experience do you have for the House of L, Miya?"

"I have sword and unarmed combat skills, as well as gardening, and I have worked very hard to learn how to cook large meals for many people at an Inn," Miya bowed her head politely. "I am told they are more than adequately tasty and nutritious."

"What ARE you Miya Asama?" Ava'Dara interrupted suddenly with intense interest. "You do not smell human, nor mutated human. The lavender flower scent about you is very natural, not from artificial perfumes or body cleansing products. You also do not smell or feel like Shi'ar, Kree, Ruul, Myndai, Lumina, Sirian, nor shape shifting Skrull. Yet, I can feel the aura of not human powers about you, long used and well honed as if you are an Exalted Warbird of Antiquity, but you are NOT Shi'ar. So what are you?"

"Why, actually," Miya smiled enough to almost squint her eyes, "I'm a goddess."

"An alien ninja goddess and gardening Iron Chef named Miya Asama," Emma's voice fairly dripped with sarcasm, "teleporting in from Tokyo and wanting to get better acquainted with still smelling like a warthog Logan? How cute but drearily droll. That last alone suggests she's got severe problems besides absolutely no registered background, no credentials, no references, and no current record of even existing, let alone illegally arriving here. And we are even considering hiring her? We hire self proclaimed goddesses out of the blue for prison security? This really IS astonishing!"

"I would rather cook," Miya returned mildly, "if a position like that is still available. I will work for room and meals only for as long as I stay here. I do not wish to be a burden."

"Well, as far as I know, Logan has only hired one House cook to date," Jessica volunteered as she flipped the 3D holograph display through several personnel lists. "Ummm, her name is Cecilia Cardinale whose son died fighting in the Shadowbox Wars. She's a Cuban female augmented by a temporary symbiotic alien and given powerful psychic, teleporting, levitation, super strength, agility, shape shifting, unarmed combat, and self healing powers. She became a man hating vigilante named Poison due to male abuse when younger, and she can also psi project severe injury and disease. She was killed and revived by The Hand to make a brainwashed attack on Nick Fury's S.H.I.E.L.D. air carrier almost two decades ago. Stabbed to death by Wolverine during the battle, but apparently revived again by her off and on symbiotic alien friend. Currently employed as Logan's personal chef here at the Jean Grey Academy."

"A cook named Poison?" Emma exclaimed incredulously. "Well, why not? She actually sounds more astonishing than our mysterious ninja gardening goddess here. Wrap this crap up, Elektra! Let this phony whatever talk to Logan and pass his staffing background checks if she simply wants to cook! He's personally hiring the cook, house, and ground-keeping staff anyway. We're only here for preliminary interviews of House security applicants, and we're done! I want OUT of this chair! This jumpsuit makes the damnable rash on my boobs itch! And Logan promised me better clothes! Where ARE they?"

"Not my problem. Ask him when he gets here," Elektra motioned to cut the conference call and signaled the patiently waiting, Raft female security guards to return the still sour looking Mystique and fuming Emma to their modular prison cells set up in the academy basement. Damn it was good to get away from those two nasty tempered bitches, Elektra thought as she blew out a deep breath. She then exchanged commiserating glances with Jessica Cage who was also shaking her head in sighing relief.

"I can't wait to get those two into their own little bailiwicks at the House and OUT of my hair," Elektra announced to the library ceiling. And Ava fucking Dara too, she finished silently as she moved around the tables to stand by Miya.

"Miya Asama," Ava'Dara stood gracefully and pointed towards the patio's double doors, "I wouldst like to privately converse with you outside. There I can more readily observe your..."

"Save it for later, Feathers," Elektra interrupted in an aggrieved tone as she took light possession of Miya's left elbow and pointed in the opposite direction. "Miya wants to search the Academy for friends of hers that may have arrived earlier, and she needs assigned to a room before the head Academy staff all disappear for dinner."

"There may be others like Miya already here?" The Warbird's white eyes widened at the thought and moved to tug on Miya's other arm. "But I did not sense, well, yes! By all means! Leave us search now! And Miya Asama doesn't need a room assignment, human! She can share my quarters here and also Lord Logan's cabin with me when he returns! That way she can more easily read Lord Logan's battle history and acquaint herself with it."

"Wait! Ava'Dara!" Jessica Cage moved to block the other three females path to the library exit. "You have GOT to talk to Logan about his hiring Seraph's Angels as my legwork assistants! The background investigating work is piling up way too fast for me to even try to keep up, and those women are insisting that he spends at least one night a week with each of them on a rotating basis before they'll agree to work for me!"

"I see no reason to bother Lord Logan with such a trivial detail," Ava'Dara raised a disdainful right eyebrow in return. "He has already indicated his deep desires for your human minor minions to be hired. Tell them their terms are acceptable for each Sunday night he is here, or they may have his free Wednesday evening as an alternate if their Sunday date is missed due to his I.D.P. assassin duties."

"Are you freaking nuts? Nobody goes on a Sunday night date in this town! Nothing's open!" Jessica crossed her arms below her breasts in disagreement with this scheduling faux pas. "Make it Thursday, Friday, or Saturday night!"

"Thursday is for his all night popcorn and stud poker group," the Warbird explained patiently while shaking her head negatively. "He reports to I.D.P. headquarters in Shanghai on Fridays. Saturdays through Sunday afternoons are reserved for his duties with the Avengers. Monday nights are for watching televised hockey with me, but he has advised that you and the Little Warrior are welcome to eat dinner and watch with us. All day and evenings on Tuesdays he is still teaching combat tactics here at the academy when he is here. Wednesdays are his regular meetings with the House of L architects, builders, and sub contractors. Sunday nights with a possible late Wednesday night alternate are all that is left open for social interaction. Those Seraph human females will just have to accept what they can get."

"Oh all right, but, wait! Logan wants MY Danielle to watch hockey with him? And YOU? Every Monday night?"

"Certainly, and with you also if you wish to attend. It is a great honor after all," Ava'Dara nodded her head with enough enthusiasm to make her feathers rustle. "I have studied this war sport. Keeping official track of the rubber puck and scoring are simply ruses to create battle tension. The war sport's main purpose is to be a great teaching exercise in constantly evolving team tactics, maneuvers, and innovative weapon use while following a commander's strategic battle orders. There are also invaluable deeper lessons of subterfuge, deception, sneaky blindside attacks, and practicing wounded innocence while tripping, hacking, punching, and slashing away with a stick blade at an opponent's kidneys, eyes, exposed joints, and genitals. Hockey is a great battle field simulator to begin the Little Warrior's training and get her accustomed to seeing blood."

"Holy Freaking HELL that is SO not right!" Jessica began in rising righteous anger. "There is NO damn way my little kid is..."

Naturally, the library door slammed open at this precise instant to admit one small flying ball of dynamic yelling excitement and action. Danielle Cage literally bowled her mother backwards upon impact while smothering Jessica's face with kisses followed by near strangling neck hugs. An excited running dialogue of today's major events in school was the verbal accompaniment.

"MAMA! You know WHAT? During color in the lines that Joey kid called me a poopy butt again so I hit him in the ear and twisted his arm and gave him such a pinch then Amy pulled my hair so I poked her real hard in her belly button to make her cry a lot so later at lunch I felt bad and gave her half of my pbj sammich and she made Joey give me his strawberry yogurt in return for her snicker doodle cookie and asked if I wanted half of her tuna salad sammich but I said no because Ava'Dara says real warriors don't eat tuna salad they eat the whole damn tuna, right? I really like Amy and Joey! They're my best friends! And so anyway we gave that nasty old tuna salad sammich to our skinny teacher Missus Tole because she was almost drooling over it since she's poor and doesn't eat very well. Can I take her some extra food tomorrow so she doesn't have to look so starved all the, all the...AVA'DARA! YOU'RE HERE! IS UNCA LOGAN HERE TOO?"

"I, Ava'Dara Naganandini, Royal Warbird, Deathbringer Class, greet you in the name of our Royal Master, Little Warrior. Our Lord Logan is to arrive later."

"I also greet you Ava'Dara Nanga, nanga, nanganinny. Oh, I can never get that right! HEY! Can we go flying over the lake again! And, and dive for fish! And stab 'em with your swords! Can we huh? Can WE? Mama! You want to fly and catch fish too, right? Let's go right now and give what we spear to Cecilia so she... HEY! Hi Lectra! Gee you look so pretty! Can I see your sai swords? Come outside and do your kata with them again so I can watch! You, you always look so... oh..."

Daniel Cage had missed seeing Miya who had taken a step behind Elektra and the Warbird at Jessica's first confrontation. The little, brown curly haired, female dynamo, dressed in black sneakers, blue jeans, and a gray sweatshirt with fresh and multicolored crayon streaks, stopped absolutely still and hovered head high in front of Miya. Danielle's big brown eyes went very wide as she did a slow head to toe and back again inspection of this new female addition to her young life. For her part, Miya gave the instantly awestruck young child a small friendly smile. Danielle promptly wheeled and flew back into Jessica's arms and began sobbing uncontrollably.

A little perplexed, Miya blinked and frowned slightly at the little girl's reaction to her. What was wrong? She hadn't used any scary psychic projections, nor tried to look threatening in any way, matter of fact, she had tried to look very friendly. Sending a child fleeing to sob in fear in her mother's arms actually hurt. Miya turned to look at Elektra with a contrite, lower lip chewing, and wounded expression.

"Wait," Elektra said softly and smirked knowingly in return.

"The Little Warrior sees and feels things very deeply in her life," Ava'Dara added in a hushed tone of blatant awe. "I admire this very greatly and hope to..."

"You listen and you listen good, you arrogant, bird brained piece of shit!" Jessica snarled as she poised a free index finger a few micro centimeters away from a surprised Ava'Dara's nose. "My Danielle will NEVER become like you! You knock off using cuss words around her and all this Little Warrior and training and stabbing and, and blood crap right this instant and from now on too, or I'll forbid her from ever spending ten seconds within miles of you! Got it? She is Luke Cage's daughter! The most loving, caring, humane man that ever lived! And way tons better than you and your fucking murderous Lord Logan!"

Uncharacteristically, Ava'Dara made no move to escape Jessica's righteous finger. After a long silence, she simply spoke but only loud enough to be heard above Danielle's sobbing.

"Some thirty seasons ago I was conceived in the flesh slums of Chandlihar, a minor planet in the Shi'ar Imperium. My mother's ova had been harvested as her tax payment. My father's sperm was delivered to the egg incubators by a sprinkling system. I was gestated and born from the ripped open womb of an alien slave woman whose anatomy was not built for Shi'ar birth. She became my first kill for the Shi'ar Imperium. Before I was taught speech, I was working day and night assembling pulse cannons for the Naganandini weapons factory until old enough to be trained, taught to kill, absolutely obey, and serve my Royal Master as a soldier of the Imperium. By the time your Earth children enter school I was already killing the Imperium's enemies. My kill score rapidly became high enough that I was accepted into the most elite ranks of Shi'ar soldiers. I endured and excelled in the harshest and most demanding combat drill in the Galaxy to become a Royal Warbird, Deathbringer Class, one who knows exceedingly well how to kill and also die if necessary.

"Know this Jessica Jones Cage. I've always wondered what it would have been like to have a real mother, and despite not knowing, I never really wanted to kill anything or anyone. I had a secret shame growing up because I loved to draw what was thought by my trainers to be depraved pictures of pretty things; colorful flowers, songbirds on the wing, and flitting butterflies. I would draw them in furtive places of hiding and then burn them before they could be discovered and expose me, yet I was nearly terminated for my weakness. I was disgraced after my dark secret was discovered the day I didn't kill an alien artist's young child on a planet the Imperium had invaded for conquest. Instead of the capital punishment I deserved, my Royal Majestor assigned me to be a bodyguard of the Royal Prince and sent me here to Earth with him. Then I was assigned to stay at this academy when the Prince returned home."

Elektra and the still puzzled Miya glanced a little uncomfortably at each other, both unused to witnessing such a dramatic tableau now unfolding before them. Elektra simply shrugged and decided to enjoy the Warbird getting a beat down/social education from the depths of an irate mother's protective wrath. Miya was still wondering what it was and/or what she had done to upset the little girl so badly.

"After much meditation," Ava'Dara continued. "It is my conclusive belief that the Royal Majestor, although not understanding it, saw the deep beauty and compassion in the heart of Wolverine; a great battle hero renowned throughout the Galaxies, profoundly respected by the Shi'ar, Kree, and Sirian races, even more deeply feared by the Skrull, and especially the Brood of whom he has been their deadliest scourge. I also believe the royalty of the Shi'ar Imperium, now greatly weakened through centuries of constant warfare, intended to match Lord Logan with the only Royal Warbird in the Imperium that has shown she can appreciate his heart. They have done this so that in the centuries to come, a new and stronger, more viable, and compassionate race can survive to strengthen not only Earth's people, but the Shi'ar as well.

"I already know how to kill and die, Jessica Jones Cage. It is my sincerest desires that since I am now totally life bonded to and serving my Lord Logan, he will also teach me how to love and live. Just like I, Ava'Dara Naganandini, Royal Warbird, Deathbringer Class, profoundly desire for your Little War … Danielle Cage to teach me all about the deep beauty in living and help me again draw the pretty pictures I feel within me."

"Dammit," Jessica's shoulders sagged, her pointing free hand already withdrawn to love pat the still sobbing Danielle's back. "You were a lot easier to hate a minute ago. But I'm still warning you..."

"You must face the present sad and harsh reality of life here on Earth 616 Jessica Cage. You and your daughter Danielle will always be in grave danger if you don't at least learn how to protect yourselves. Without Lord Logan's shelter and kindness, what kind of future would you both have? One that would be sanctioned and approved by your dead husband perhaps? Highly doubtful from the way the I.D.P. is governing. I also do not see how my Lord has earned your constant vicious scorn. Did he not valiantly defend you from the Moloids with me while you and Danielle fled? Your daughter also sees him completely different than you. Can you explain that?"

"I, I, no!" Jessica floundered in self recrimination. She hadn't wanted Logan or even the strange Warbird left behind on that rooftop, and she was grateful for his protection and getting them registered as well as steady employment, but, but, dammit his fucking claws were simply too bloody freaky!

"When Danielle was a baby and crying because she wanted her binkie and Luke couldn't FIND her binkie, and he complained he was losing a ton of street cred every time he said the word binkie, Logan was there. He took Danielle into his arms, told her to shush, she looked him in the eyes, and immediately stopped crying. She's been absolutely freaking nuts about Logan ever since! And of course I can't explain it! Any more than I can explain Danielle's imaginary play friend, the invisible Green Lady that tells her the future and teaches her all kinds of stuff. And, and I MISS Luke!"

"I can give you no comfort for the death of your former life mate, Jessica Jones Cage," the Warbird tried to at least sound conciliatory while searching for something helpful to say. Perhaps this augmented human female was once again experiencing hormonal urges for mating and motherhood. After all, her former consort had died almost two planetary cycles ago. It would only be natural instinct for any fecund female to desire her continued replenishing of her race's population. Was it possible that her unreasoning enmity for Lord Logan was due to his being unaware of her desire to mate? Which in turn was making Jessica Jones Cage feel that her perhaps too subtle sexual posturing in baggy clothing was being ignored? That must be it. This female, actually very nice Royal Warbird material, simply needed encouragement to display her genitalia and her mating intentions for Lord Logan more openly to get a fertilized egg once again growing in her womb as she desired. That would also be good training for the Little Warrior to see her future as a female doing her part for race continuation.

Elektra kept her eyes on Ava'Dara's facial expressions as the Warbird seemed to be silently processing something in her alien brain. From experience, the verbal result was probably going to be highly entertaining.

"This is going to be good," Elektra murmured as she nudged Miya with an elbow.

"I can say that it is a well known fact," the Warbird began while nodding solicitously, "that life usually goes on even after the harshest of circumstances. If you are once again experiencing natural hormonal mating urges for breeding again, then I really must recommend Lord Logan for that. I can personally attest that his male sexual organ is much longer and thicker than normal, just as his strong muscular body and natural male odor is incredibly enticing to females in heat."

"What?" Jessica's mouth dropped open in totally flummoxed disbelief as Ava'Dara blithely plowed on.

"And he is most experienced in using his big male member to delight his female partner again and again because of his healing factor lets him recover his potent and very exciting hardness very quickly. I was most pleased with this during our initial furious couplings, but then he was most tender and considerate later as well, far into the night. I also found he is incredibly talented with his tongue as well and can repeatedly bring me into intense mating heat without even doing any bloody battle and killing of our foes together. I did not know this was possible. Nor that fruit flavored aids for mutual enjoyment existed. It is truly, truly remarkable, a miracle actually Jessica Jones Cage, and totally satisfying for days afterward as well. That should greatly help you change your poor opinion of him that is entirely undeserved. Lord Logan is also a proven fertile male so you should have little trouble becoming impregnated from the copious amounts of hot sperm that he produces. And you with injections of the Infinity Drug would be an excellent candidate for Royal Warbird training. This is Tuesday. Do you wish to be scheduled for a dinner date and mating with Logan later tonight? I advise you to let him give you higher heat inducing and fruit flavored fellatio before coupling to ensure proper fertilization."

"Damn," Elektra swallowed convulsively and shifted her suddenly restless thighs from suddenly reliving an old memory. Logan had always been a hot lover, even better than Matt Murdock physically, but she had never heard Logan praised quite so explicitly and yet so perfectly. She really needed to talk to him tonight! In his lake cabin! Jessica could wait her turn!

Miya also let out a deep breath. She had instinctively known Logan was a highly attractive male the first time they had met, even if that meeting hadn't gone all that well on an intellectual nor emotional level. The fact that she had spent too many hours since in heated daydreaming of Logan despite her love for her dead husband was the exact reason she was here now. With Ava'Dara's mechanically graphic and enthusiastic description/endorsement of Logan's lovemaking, it was also time to think over the very first of the Warbird's speech. Life does go on, and Miya, finally facing this fact for the first time in years, suddenly felt very sure she wanted to go on too. The question was, would Logan want to go with her? He certainly had no inducement to do so from their first badly botched meeting.

Once again Jessica had no idea what to say. She could lie and pretend that she hadn't sexually noticed Logan's heavily muscled arms, thighs, and shoulders, nor his six pack abs and bulging crotch emphasized by his new black and red leather battle uniform. And he did have beautiful deep blue eyes and a very, very nice and manly, old leather smell about him. He had always been ruggedly handsome too and even seemed taller recently for some reason. On the other hand, he was Logan! Cigar chomping, beer breath, too blunt, too crass, and way too dangerous to be around bloody Logan! Jessica was saved from giving any kind of response to the obviously pleased and patiently waiting Ava'Dara.

"Mama," Danielle hiccuped and hugged her mother tightly. "She's so bright and beautiful inside it hurt to see the flowers of her heart, Mama! And the Green Lady loves her so much! Are we, are we gonna eat dinner with Unca Logan tonight?"

"Uhhh, I, uhhh, don't think," Jessica began while still feeling a great deal of emotional confusion.

"Mama! Say yes! I LOVE fruit flavored fellatio!" Danielle exclaimed in quickly recovering excitement. "Especially strawberry!"

"Ummm, that's JELLO, baby," Jessica winced while darting another angry warning look at the Warbird for her lack of tact around a young child. "You love strawberry JELLO!"

"Lackeys!" Ava'Dara barked suddenly in misinterpreting Jessica's look. After several seconds of delay, a long tailed blue Bamf teleported into view to hover fearfully in front of the Warbird. She immediately snatched the elf like creature into one hand so fast the movement was simply a blur. She gave her captive a light squeeze to make his eyes bulge more in fear.

"When I call, you come at once!" Ava'Dara snarled menacingly, "or you'll all become morning snack food, dried, salted, smoked, jerked, or Bar BQ! It makes no difference to me which I eat! Have the cook make a lot of strawberry jello for Lord Logan's dinner tonight!"

"So THAT'S the fear," Elektra murmured as the Warbird gave the Bamf one hard shake for emphasis and made it squeal in terror before being released to immediately "bamf" away. Damn that alien bird female was fast! Too fast for Elektra to reasonably challenge for Logan's bedroom key.

Miya stifled a small smile at Jessica's facial expression while the flummoxed mother was trying to decide how to best explain to Danielle that jello was NOT the same as fellatio and why Ava'Dara's invitation for a dinner date with Logan wasn't actually intended to include a child. Miya also noticed that Elektra was slightly scowling in jealous disgust. There seemed to be some serious competition brewing for Logan's affections on even a one night a week basis, so where did that put Miya Asama?

Whatever Jessica was finally going to say to Danielle was interrupted by another flying ball of excitement, however this one was outside blasting low over the Academy followed by a window shaking sonic boom. Elektra's table mounted security panel went blinking light crazy before going completely blank. The four adult females and little Danielle looked out the glass patio doors to see a dark clad figure zoom over the lake, become a speck on the far off horizon above the trees, and then curve to come back low. Whoever it was misjudged their altitude and smacked into the lake like a kid tossed flat stone trying for double digit skips across the lake's surface. The flyer eventually made landfall and wound up careening up the grassy knoll in a wild tangle of flailing gloved arms, long blonde hair, black, mid thigh high boots, and a very brief black torso suit with a gold lightning bolt emblazoned upon it. Even before the less than graceful arrival had finally flopped to an ignominious halt, the astonished onlookers in the library had exited onto the patio for possible first aid.

"Oh damn, it's Carol Danvers," Jessica sighed in exasperation as she skidded to a wary halt just past the patio's edge to eye her fallen best friend in dismay.

The newly arrived female staggered to her feet, eyes blearily trying to focus. Although very bedraggled, there was no denying that she was indeed a very nicely endowed, extremely shapely, and classic, tall, Nordic beauty of a female. She began stumbling drunkenly towards the Academy patio while waving her arms in a demanding fashion and yelling drunkenly. Miya eyed the long legged, Barbie Doll shaped female in dismay since her tall body's symmetry was even better than Elektra and Ava'Dara's superb figures.

"Jess, go get Logan! I wanna shee Logan righ' now!" The blue eyed newcomer stopped and dramatically pointed at Jessica during mid bellow. The dramatic effect of her demand was slightly diminished by her slovenly tangled and now also wetly matted hair, mud streaked, water dripping boots, gloves, and torso suit, and her small diamond shaped mask sitting askew across her nose. A further dampening of her demand came when she staggered two steps to the right and fell to all fours in an attempt to stop the world from spinning.

"Gee Auntie Carol! You're really squiffed!" Danielle exclaimed while making a flying circle of intense examination around Carol's still weaving form that was imitating a very sick dog. "Mama always says you shouldn't fly when you drink too much! You'll hurt somebody! Avengers should NEVER endanger the people they're sworn to protect!"

Carol's head twisted and turned while trying to focus her eyes on the little circling gadfly that was lecturing her so severely. The action made her eyes cross and face turn pale, even slightly green.

"Carol Danvers?" Ava'Dara said softly to herself in some puzzlement before flicking a few recruiting pages on her electronic notepad, stopping, and then reading aloud. "Oh, yes, here she is! Of course, a nickname and/or alias. Typical multiple human nomenclature confusion. Ahhh, this one! She's Lord Logan's some time friend and former lover!"

"Who is she?" Miya couldn't contain her curiosity.

"An arrogant drunken bitch," Elektra murmured in disgust.

Ava'Dara was much more forthcoming as she read her notepad's entry out loud to Miya.

"She is Catherine Susan Jane Danvers, battle name of Captain Marvel, aka Miss Marvel, Lady Marvel, Binary, and Warbird et cetera. Former military pilot and spy subjected to DNA altering Kree radiation resulting in her super human powers of flight, levitation, invulnerability, super speed, stamina, agility, energy manipulation for blast powers and constructs, superior self healing and anti-aging. Extensive battle training, experience, and leadership skills, however, arrogant, subject to frequent bouts of deep depression, and a long time alcoholic. Very marginal material for Lord Logan's future flock, probably unsuitable like Mystique."

"Oh Carol, Logan won't be here until later," Jessica was trying to explain as her drunken friend made a supreme effort to stagger upright and balance on widespread feet. "And you're in pretty bad shape. Let me call Avenger Mansion to get help for you."

"Oh no ya don't, Jess!" Danvers violently shook her head while trying to swipe her wet hair out of her eyes and missing. "I'm stayin' here to see Logan! He's a 'Venger! An' we need him at the Mansion righ' now! He belongs with US! All these switch hitting X-Bitches here are gonna be penned up soon anyway! I'm takin' him home! You, you an' Dani belong there too!"

"Lord Logan is not scheduled for Avenger Mansion until Saturday morning," Ava'Dara declared flatly. "You have no reason to be here Danvers, nor are you welcome while inebriated. Leave."

"Who're you to tell ME anything? Bird Bitch! Shut your mouth, or I'll kill ya! Just like I'm gonna kill that lousy soul stealing bitch Rogue! Wanda and I both hate her guts!"

"Ohhh, you got a bad potty mouth, Auntie Carol!" A narrow eyed Danielle scolded while wagging a little forefinger under the tall blonde Avenger's weaving nose. "And you should be nicer to Ava'Dara! The Green Lady really, really likes her! She's my friend too and Unca Logan's Royal Warbird, Deathbringer Class. You shouldn't be such a big meanie when you get stinko! You need a bath and clean clothes! You're a big mess! People are gonna laugh at you if run around looking like a big mess!"

"Out of the mouths of babes," Elektra chuckled softly at the drunken blonde's discomfort.

"Who's laughin' at me?" Danvers staggered several steps to the left to stop suddenly before a very unamused and coldly disapproving Miya.

"Well, I am," Elektra spoke, but the drunken Avenger thought it was Miya who had answered.

"So! What are you? Another phony, prissy assed, muff munching X-Bitch? Lookin' an' laughin' at ME? Go hide in your precious little school with the rest of your meddlin' bitches tryin' to steal our Logan, or I'll teach you ta mind your own business!" Danvers attempted a sudden hard shove to Miya's sternum with a stiffened right arm.

This action was disdainfully flicked quickly aside by Miya's blurring left hand. Both Elektra and Ava'Dara's eyebrows shot up in surprised interest at the incredible speed Miya displayed.

"I will not be mauled by a rude, foul mouthed, and drunken ruffian," Miya advised in icy contempt. "You've been advised to leave once and already schooled in better manners by a mere young child. Where is your dignity?"

"Carol! Please stop! Miya Asama is a guest!" Jessica pleaded while punching the Avengers' number on her phone's speed dial button.

"So? Guest huh? Well, I don't like her! An' I'm stayin' till Logan gets here! Got it, BITCH!" Danvers once again tried to shove Miya.

Miya simply sidestepped to the right and using her right hand, backhanded the drunken Danvers hard across the mouth to send the tall blonde reeling backwards. Miya followed with two more flat handed blows to either side of her would be attacker's face that rocked Danvers' head back and forth. A front snap kick to the stomach from Miya's right boot heel sent a stunned Danvers soaring gracefully out into the middle of the lake. The black clad blonde splashed down hard a half mile out and disappeared underwater several seconds before bursting up high in the air, right arm outstretched and left leg bent to resemble a high arcing, fist clenched human spear. At the apex of her arc, Danvers homed in on Miya, obviously intent on hitting her with a power blast and/or a flying hard fist. Miya drew her katana and made an oblique slashing cut faster than Elektra's eyes could follow. The effect was a high pitched ZANG! that made an incredibly fast trough of outward curving water across the lake before the aimed sonic blast slammed into the approaching Danvers. The black clad blonde was immediately knocked unconscious and sent her clear across the lake to land in an unmoving heap on the shore in front of the unfinished House of L a mile away. Miya impassively sheathed her sword.

"WOW!" Danielle breathed in awe while craning her neck to peer into the distance. She then begin swiveling her head between Miya and the distant Danvers. "The Green Lady SAID you were very powerful!"

"I've got a feeling," Elektra gave Miya a rare smile of approval, "you and I might become very good friends, especially if you keep pissing off and bitch slapping all the right people."

"Miya Asama, are you fertile?" Ava'Dara asked while furiously making a new page on her recruitment notepad.

"Dammit!" Jessica hissed in dismay at Danvers' unmoving form on the far shore just before two oddly dressed but incredibly beautiful females suddenly materialized several meters in the air above the Academy's patio. They floated down to stand silently beside Jessica with inquiring expressions on their faces. Jessica simply pointed to the opposite far shore.

Miya eyed the taller, white skinned newcomers with stoic wariness. One was a long legged, willowy yet nicely curved woman with full, shoulder length silver hair and very pale blue eyes. She was wearing knee high black boots and a dark pink and black body suit that had large interlocking circle designs on both legs. The other had a more voluptuous figure, thick and long dark auburn hair, glowing green eyes, and an outfit entirely of scarlet; a long cape, a barely breast covering, shoulder-less torso suit, thigh high leather boots, bicep length leather gloves, and a dual horned, face lining head piece that swept her impressive auburn tresses back to fall midway down her back. To Miya, the scarlet clad female was simply a stunning, sexually intimidating beauty, and both newcomers just exuded vast and humbling amounts of raw psychic power all around them.

"Auntie Clea and Auntie Wanda!" Danielle squealed in delight before launching herself into the smiling silver haired woman's arms.

"Well, well," Elektra murmured derisively and shaking her head at this day's ongoing glimpse of future constant chaos in the House of L. "Jessica's SOS call brought out BOTH total nut case mystics of the A-Team, Wanda Maximoff and Clea Strange, neither of whom will ever show up on perimeter security sensors. As if Danvers the Drunk just knocking out those damn sensors wasn't enough to deal with. All three of them need full time loony bin keepers."

"Maximoff? Ahhh yes!" Ava'Dara nodded in feather shaking approval as she scanned her recruiting notepad. "The Scarlet Witch and Doctor Strange's ex-wife! I must speak to them! Both are excellent candidates for Lord Logan's new Warbird flock!"

"Except I don't think either are fertile, let alone even close to being sane," Elektra observed mildly with a trace of smugness. "By the way Ava'Dara, our new cook candidate and good friend Miya could use a new toothbrush, toiletries, and several changes of new underwear for her stay with us as well as a few mini dresses. She looks about the same size as Kitty Pryde. Why don't you..."

"You are the one called Warbird?" Clea Strange interrupted by calling over the still wriggling and excited Danielle's shoulders. "And you as his current girlfriend have constant communication access to Logan, correct?"

"Affirmative," Ava'Dara nodded once although slightly frowning at the girlfriend designation. "I am much more than a mere girlfriend however. I am a Shi'ar Royal Warbird, Deathbringer Class, and life bonded to Lord Logan in his New Ancestral Nest."

"Whatever. Please advise him that the I.D.P. High Council has enlisted the services of the Seventh Sign, and their Elders are dispatching the Witch Hunter also known as the Angel of Destruction to be assigned to the House of L security team. We have heard that she has been given autonomous authority to summarily terminate any mystic, werewolf, and vampire that she deems an immediate public danger. If this is true, we fear several of his incoming inmates including Jubilation Lee are in grave danger as well as some Avengers and X-Women. We also heard that she may be arriving incognito at any time, so it would behoove us all to be very wary of strangers."

"I will inform Lord Logan at once," the expressionless Warbird nodded again while she and Elektra both gave quick glances of instant suspicion at Miya. "And before you both gather up Carol Danvers and remove her from the premises, could I invite you to return for dinner later so that I may inquire in some depth about your past personal relationships with Lord Logan as well as your current state of fertility?"

"What?" Clea Strange's mouth dropped open in genuine surprise. Wanda also blinked and then became immediately intrigued with the idea. Why hadn't she ever considered this before? Logan did have that incredible healing factor, and she had ALWAYS wanted children, so much so that her desires for motherhood had set off repeated multidimensional devastation, wars, and even a very confrontational return of the Phoenix. Could Logan with potentially very potent and infertile egg healing swimmers possibly knock her up, maybe?

"I think Ava'Dara means after having a dinner date with Mama and Unca Logan tonight," Danielle explained patiently to Clea, "you guys should all have some strawberry fellatio with him for dessert because it really helps you to get heated up and properly fertilized later. Ain't that right Mama?"

"Why yes! You are right, Dani! It does!" Wanda Maximoff, her green eyes gleaming avidly, began laughing merrily at Jessica's sudden, choking, red faced, coughing fit. "And I just LOVE strawberries! They're my favorite colored after dinner fruit!"

Still keeping a wary eye on Carol Danvers' still unmoving form, Miya hid a small blushing smirk behind her right palm. Sexual innuendos and open talk of mating were very embarrassing to her and not permitted in her Izumo Inn, but then, she was in Logan's very strange world now. The fertilizing visual images induced WERE making her feel very warm which didn't actually surprise her. Miya knew she had been reacting to Logan in bonding heat before coming here.

Clea Strange had also blushed deeply at Danielle's blunt faux pas. Clea's facial expression, although not as openly intrigued as Wanda's, was smiling in her own naughty fruit fun interest. The more openly fascinated Scarlet Witch, however, in form, dress, and low humor, greatly reminded Miya of Sekirei Number 03, the Public Obscenity named Kazehana.

"Clea, Wanda, Miya, and Jessica, you should all wear brief and easily removed clothing to dinner tonight," Ava'Dara sagely counseled as Jessica began another choking fit. "Dress to display your inflamed female genitalia in an enticing manner for my Lord Logan, especially you Jessica Jones Cage. I will do my duty as a bonded Royal Warbird to psychically enhance his mood and yours for mating and growing his flock, but thong underwear, high heel boots, and a brief bustier like Emma Frost eschews would be much more appealing than your plain baggy shirt and jeans."

Elektra Natchios, feeling a little sour at all the sudden competition for Logan's affections and NOT being invited to dinner, suddenly asked the autumn winds.

"Are you SURE I'm supposed to be HERE?"

***scene break***

Logan wearily opened the door to Ava'Dara's quarters in the Academy dormitory's third floor. Hearing the shower operating in the bathroom, he tossed several bags of new clothing and a smaller one of female toiletries onto the Warbird's double bed before spying the heavy book she had made containing his battle history on top of a nearby chest of drawers. He sighed and shook his head. Sometime real soon he was gonna have to have a long sit down talk with his Shi'ar lover and tell her why no one was really interested in her constantly extolling his long history of killing. Sure it made good reading for a Shi'ar Warbird trained from birth to slay the Imperium's enemies, but nowadays it was rapidly becoming a fast track for an I.D.P. termination inside a fusion generator.

"Ava babe!" Logan called at the same time the shower noise quit. "The clothes and stuff you wanted are on the bed! I'm headed down stairs to eat! Join me when you're dressed! Poison says she's got enchiladas, Spanish rice, re-fried beans, chips, and salsa warming for dinner and strawberry jello for dessert! After we eat, we'll head for the cabin, build a nice fire, and grab a few beers before..."

He blinked in surprise as an unknown, slim, lavender haired female came out of the bathroom holding a large white bath towel up to her chest with her right hand. She was using her left's spread fingers to comb the worst tangles out of her long wet hair. She gasped in alarm upon seeing Logan, clutching at the towel above her breasts with both hands to make sure her front was demurely covered. Logan blinked again and then slowly smiled in appreciation as this strange young female must have forgotten about the full length mirror on the open bathroom door behind her. Logan, smiling even wider, took his time examining the well built female's head to toe, rear nudity that was reflected so clearly. For years he had privately thought Carol Danvers had possessed the finest looking and sexiest rear end in captivity, followed maybe by either the Scarlet Witch, Ava'Dara, and/or Storm, but this strange female was certainly giving them all a run for feminine derriere perfection.

For her part, Miya wondered what Logan was finding so amusing somewhere over her shoulder. He really did have a wonderful warm smile that made his deep blue eyes simply sparkle with merriment and a little boy's honest enjoyment of life. Lounging in the room's doorway, the sheer animal masculinity of him was on full display as his heavily muscled, wide shouldered frame was encased in thick black leather gloves, black leather boots, and a black trimmed in red, leather battle suit with its cowl pushed back off his head. A sudden bolt of excitement and desire coursed through Miya to make her wet suddenly dry lips as the manly aged leather smell of him came to her flaring nostrils. Heat. Instant heat! She wanted him, wanted him in a way she had never wanted her dead husband. What should she do? She had never been openly wanton before! What would he do if maybe she let her large towel slip? Or simply move towards him? Maybe smile invitingly? Sit on the bed? A lot of what had caused her to agree to visit his home planet and learn more about him and a possible future together was being answered within her right now. Suddenly, as his eyes shifted and locked onto hers, Logan frowned slightly, his eyes narrowed, his body stiffened in wariness, and his entire facial expression and body language turned to icy cold suspicion.

"Ava messaged about a new ninja cook that nailed Carol Danvers earlier. You her? You're not mystic, demonic, an Eternal, Immortal, Inhuman, nor of any alien race I'm familiar with," Logan said slowly, all his senses carefully analyzing what was before him, noting her arousal, yet something was very odd here too, "but I can sense something really, unnaturally cold and dangerous around you, and I'm getting a strong nasty feeling that there's an awful lot of death behind those weird colored eyes of yours too. Who are you? What are you doing in here? And where's Ava'Dara?"

"Ava'Dara is talking to some job applicants that were interviewed for security positions today," Miya frowned in wounded puzzlement. What had just happened? Why had he taken one look into her eyes and went so suddenly cold? What was wrong with her to make him react so negatively? Although embarrassed at suddenly being caught in nothing but a towel and wet bedraggled hair, she had thought she was being calm, open, warm, and friendly towards him, wasn't she? After all, she had come to restart their relationship and catch his interest in mating, but now this first meeting between them wasn't going any better than their previous one on her Earth!

"I'm Miya Asama from Tokyo, Japan, and yes, I, uhhh, was interviewed today for a temporary position as a cook. Ava'Dara graciously invited me to share quarters. Ummm, but I, well truthfully, I actually came here to purposely meet you, Logan-san, again, and possibly get better acquainted and form a much, much better relationship, and, and not only for my sake, but also for some friends of mine."

"I don't know you," Logan returned bluntly while crossing his arms defensively over his chest. It would only take a twitch to spring his long Adamantium claws out and be ready for battle. "We've never met."

"Uhhh, not on this Earth, no. And I'm not even sure when in past or future time we did meet since this I.D.P. government has changed this dimension's calendar," Miya bit her lower lip while trying to safely navigate the minefield of his suspicions. "Logan-san, on the other dimension Earth where we have already met, I found myself reacting very heatedly to you, even more than the others, but you were having a lot of amnesia problems from being badly hurt and also gravely poisoned. However, we were able to use dialysis to help you recover, and..."

"We? We who? Not from Earth 616 either?"

"My friends Kazehana, Uzume, Akitsu, Kochou, and Matsu. They're Sekirei. We came from planet Kouten and crash landed thousands of years ago on that Earth in a different dimension. We survived in emergency hibernation under the ocean until plate tectonics brought our womb ship with 108 eggs and embryos to the surface on a volcanic island off the south coasts of Japan almost twenty years ago. Our ship was discovered, its womb's contents eventually grown to adulthood, and recently released into Tokyo by a not so benevolent corporation called M.B.I. We, well, we have serious troubles brewing as Sekirei have superhuman powers that the nations of Earth and M.B.I. all want to exploit. I fear these troubles will lead to not only all Sekirei dying, but many, many thousands of innocent humans as well. And from what I've read of your past in Ava'Dara's battle history, it could well begin the same kinds of mutant bigotry, wars, and attempted mutant purges that the I.D. P. dimensional planets have already experienced for several decades and still are."

"And during this recent release of these so called Sekirei in your Tokyo is where I came into your picture?" Logan cocked his head sideways and raised one skeptical eyebrow. "And now you want me to help you and your people fight for survival, right?"

"I, I mean, we," Miya started speaking between nervous short breaths, trying hard to convey her honest, heart felt desires, not only for him, but her Sekirei too. "We would rather find a way to stay alive without fighting, but yes, I believe we very desperately are going to need your help. Logan-san, our first meeting between you and I went very badly, and, and I behaved so, so, ignorantly and, and abominably. I thought maybe, well I prayed for a second chance to make things much better and have a new start between us. A friend helped me travel here to meet you anew, today. I wanted to learn more about you and your world too. I, I, Logan-san, I'm very inexperienced with, with, ummm, interacting and, and conveying my intimate feelings to a male, and, and I very much want to understand why I seem to make you feel so defensive when that's not what I want at all."

Logan simply continued to stare at her in narrow eyed contemplation.

"I can't explain what you are and why you are. You smell like lavender flowers, but there's also a slight stench of decayed blood below that. I also know stone cold hearted killers like Elektra and Mystique when I see and feel them, and especially sick ones I truly despise that simply enjoy wanton killing. I can't quite put my finger on it, but there seems to be something sick like that about you. I've never heard of a space faring race called Sekirei in any dimension I've traveled to and through either. Why and where were were you headed when you crash landed on this other Earth?"

"The simple answer to both is we were coming from a very distant galaxy to Earth in order to find love," Miya shrugged almost apologetically while biting her lower lip anew. He wasn't believing anything she was saying! And he looked ready to attack! What was WRONG with her to make him sense her as repulsive? She had never enjoyed killing! Not like 04 Karasuba!

"I'm, I'm not sure WHY you think I enjoy killing, Logan-san, because I never have! It's true that I have killed in self defense and in defense of other Sekirei. And, and I'm not cold hearted at all! I don't know why I would make you feel so, so, unless, well, our race IS a warrior society of ancient avian ancestry. I suspect we are much like and maybe even distant cousins of the Shi'ar. Love does not come naturally to us other than bonding and breeding for it with physically and emotionally compatible races such as the Humans of Earth, races which are exceedingly rare in our very violent universe. Our Ancients long ago decided that for the Sekirei to survive without constant interstellar war, our race had to temper our warrior instincts with peacemaking love. This we have done with a great deal of success, and most Sekirei are highly able to bond and love their Ashikabi. However for some, and I guess I am one, love doesn't come so easily, nor without risks. That's why, after I found myself reacting to you on my Earth, but failed to, to, to catch your interest, I wanted to, to come here and try again, more favorably."

Logan coldly stared at Miya in silence for almost a minute.

"So a heretofore unknown avian race called Sekirei, just out looking for a little love, comes from an unknown planet named Kouten in an unknown distant galaxy. These Sekirei just happen to crash land in some unknown time past on some other unknown Earth of some unknown dimension outside the I.D.P. How cozy. And so convenient with all those critical unknowns. And you haven't got one shred of anything to back up your story. Nor do I feel or sense any psychic connection between us at all, before or now. Lady, in this unknown Tokyo you claim you came from, are you familiar with the term, A Big Ripe Bag of Bullshit?"

Miya's tensed shoulders slumped as she sighed in frustration. It was true. She couldn't actually prove one iota of anything she had told him. Even throwing her towel aside and jumping him wouldn't convince him now. He'd probably just gut her from his facial expression.

"Logan-san, it is the truth. I, I told you I am very bad at intimate interactions, because I've never been very open about expressing my emotions. I was briefly married, but never bonded to a powerful Ashikabi like you. But even before my husband died years ago, it was very hard for me to show him my true feelings. It is even harder now with you, because, because inside, I'm so nervous, and, and I'm feeling things for, for a strong male I've never felt before! I don't know how to, to, express them, and, and make you understand what is happening with me. I was under the impression that the woman in green robes who brought me here knew you intimately, and she would vouch for everything about me and your previous coming to our planet. And, and she would help me! I, I just wasn't expecting to show up here with only my clothing and sword!"

"What woman in green? What's her name? Who is she?" Logan's tone was still totally suspicious.

"I don't know who or what she is or her name, but I suspect Danielle Cage is very familiar with her."

"Dani's invisible playmate?" Logan grunted in total disbelief. "Look, all I know is you show up out of nowhere this afternoon, don't trigger teleporting alarms, apply to be a cook which is the last thing you look like, got absolutely nothing to corroborate your background and story, bitch slap and kick the snot out of my good friend Carol Danvers and then knock her clear across the lake unconscious with some kind of sonic punch generated by a super speed sword slash. Granted Carol was drunk as hell, but she's one of the most powerful if not THE most powerful female on Earth 616. With that dumb ass sounding story of yours, and if I HAD to guess, I would say you're most probably the freaking Witch Hunter sent here by the I.D.P. High Council and the Elders of the Seventh Sign that Clea Strange warned Elektra and Ava'Dara about earlier. I'm assuming this supposed Angel of Destruction would need some screwy story like yours to slip in here unknown and undercover.

"I also know that we have never met. I don't know you at all, and quite frankly, I'm not very interested in getting to know you any better. I got enough troubles already. Nor do I want or need another female in my life. Ava'Dara is it. No more. Tell that to all your other friends in your unknown Tokyo if they want to come here too. I suggest, Miya Asama-sama, that you get a hold of your invisible green woman pal, have her trot your nice looking ass right back where you came from, and you go find another powerful Ashikabi to love, whatever in the hell that is. I'm not fighting in any more wars, here, for the I.D.P. on other planets, or for your probably fictional Sekirei. Look, kid, I'm not trying to be a giant asshole here. Whether you are telling the truth or not, it doesn't matter. You gotta understand, I'm not going to be around much longer to do you or anyone else any good anyway. You just need to find another guy."

"But Logan-san! I'm reacting! And that means..." Miya began to protest but was interrupted.

"Logan!" An unusually agitated Elektra walked into the room waving a sheaf of papers. "I have to talk to you! Now!"

"Okay, I'm done here. So talk," Logan returned wearily as he shifted to stand sideways to Miya and keep a wary eye on her without relaxing his crossed arms.

"This is the list of the first females being transferred to the House of L. A young woman from Earth 982 is on it. She's a feral mutant who's parents died defending their planet in the Shadowbox Wars, and she has handled their deaths so badly that's she's being sent here for evaluation. Her name is Rina Logan, aka Wild Thing. Her parents were James Logan and Elektra Natchios Logan."

"Awww shit," Logan sighed while looking down and using his left hand to rub his suddenly aching forehead.

"She's the daughter WE would have had on this Earth if I hadn't turned you down years ago!" Elektra's voice trembled with long suppressed emotion. "What can we do? The wind told me earlier I would have a daughter! I must have interpreted it wrong! I thought, I thought you and I would, would... We HAVE To Save Her!"

"Yeah, I know," Logan ground his teeth together in frustration, "and Jubilee and Snowbird and Aurora and a boat load of others. All right. Poison just sent a message saying my EXTRA strawberry jello is ready, whatever that means. Ava'Dara and I still have to eat dinner tonight. Join us, and then Ava, you, and I will head for my cabin. We can talk there. And then you can maybe explain what that weird wind talking to you crap is all about."

Logan turned abruptly to leave as he flipped open his 3D phone to have his Royal Warbird meet them in the Academy's cafeteria. His voice carried back to an absolutely heartsick Miya as he stopped outside the door and lingered in the hall to talk.

"Ava? Let's eat now, okay? Tell Poison to set another place for Elektra. What? What others? Miya Asama? I'm not sure that's a good idea since...YOU hired her as my new cook from Tokyo? Since when did... yes, I did say you could handle all the House of L menial labor hiring, but only subject to my approval and... Yeah, I just met her... I've never met the Witch Hunter. I don't know who...You feel this Miya Asama isn't her?...Yeah, I sense Miya's psychic power and something more I don't... well, no, no specific objections other than her weak background story really stinks... okay, I guess, as long as she behaves herself, doesn't cause me any more headaches with Carol Danvers, and she's not gonna be allowed anywhere near the incoming inmates... so she can fight, big deal. We got over a hundred registered applicants that actually have verifiable cooking experience and references... What? Why do we need a fighting cook? We gonna get attacked by killer cabbage or something?... okay, fine if she wants to waste her time making stir fry and curried rice for room and board, and you REALLY want her, then she's hired... Yeah, sure if she wants to eat a Mexican dinner tonight, why not?

"Jessica Cage, Clea Strange, and Wanda Maximoff are eating with us tonight too? Why? Your Shi'ar Royal Warbird post bonding servant requirements? I don't understand what those... Imperial female, initial socialization, and psychic melding rituals while eating together? What the hell are those? And why do you NEED... oh, your deeply imprinted Warbird instincts? Ancestral? Well yeah, some Earth birds migrate... Sure, I understand territorial nest defense and how… Look, it's just that I've never heard or ever needed any psychic meal melding and... sharing a kill ritual?... well, hell, if you wanna make new pals in the Ancient Ways of the Shi'ar Royal Warbirds, Deathbringer Class, then go ahead...Yeah, I realize you're a lone bonded Shi'ar female on Earth 616, but it ain't like you've been a social butterfly going out of your way in making friends and winning hearts since you came to this planet, right?... all right, all right, so you've got adult responsibilities since we started shacking up... Hey, I'm hungry and just want to eat... why can't we just have a quiet little enchilada dinner you and me and Elektra by the cabin fireplace... All right, all right, calm down, Ava, what the hell!... No, I really don't care who we have sharing our meals with...sure, whatever makes you happy. Shuriken? Never heard of her. Okay, okay, invite her too. No, no objections to Colleen Wing either. Yes, I know Shi, she's a damned good fighter. And Pale Flower is too. I ain't too sure Yuki, Cherry Blossom, Black Lotus, and Lady Bullseye are all that sane, but if you want 'em to share a meal, fine. The more the merrier. Look, I already said I don't care who we eat with. Just make sure the damned Bamfs haven't drank all my Molson beer again, okay?

"Messages? Emma Frost? Yeah, yeah, I forgot. Buy her the clothes she wants in the morning. Deadpool? Wade Wilson? Wants a security job? Screw that! What? Hey, it ain't my fault the I.D.P. yanked his bounty hunter license! The crazy bastard should have known being unhappy with an unpaid I.O.U., talking into thin air to some fictional pals beyond the Fourth Wall, and flashing his pink lace panties at the High Council would... Hey! I don't OWE him shit! Even if the I.D.P. check did bounce! Besides, that insane, beer stealing, mooching sonofabitch barely qualifies to take out the garbage and then root through the dumpsters for meals, let alone a security job!

"Storm? Why does SHE want to fry my balls? Other complaints? Kitty Pryde, Rachel Grey, Polaris, Psylocke, AND Rogue too? Yes, I know Dagger's been very badly depressed since Cloak was killed. I haven't been ignoring... dammit! All right! All right! Make a note for tomorrow afternoon and evening. Cut the Wednesday regular House of L building meetings short, and we'll conference with the whole damn Academy staff! Where? Nah, the library will still be needed for job interviews. Make it down in the cafeteria. No! Hell NO! Not one on one! Because they ain't gonna like what I'm gonna tell all of 'em tomorrow, that's why! Better to get 'em in a group, short and sweet, rip the band-aid off, and get out. Not now. I'll tell ya what we're gonna do over dinner. Meet me down there. Yeah, sure, I promise you'll know everything.

"Look, when I get there, don't bow down in greeting either. Because it's damned embarrassing, and you calling me Lord Logan all the time is too, that's why. I'm not gonna...Well, for one thing, it seems to be pissing off almost every female I know and work... because things are tough enough without... jealous of not being a part or qualified for our what?... What the fuck is a New Ancestral Nest?... A protected place where we live and meditate together full time? I'm not building a …we don't need... Because I'm happy with my log cabin, dammit! Look, you and I are gonna have to have a long talk about all these bullshit unknown, different, instinctive, ancestral Royal Warbird serving and nest building rituals and... hell no, they're Not mandatory for me! Or you either! This ain't the Shi'ar Imperium dammit! Yes, I'm yours... yes, yes, you ARE mine now... yeah sure... well, I realize different races have different... but can't we compromise on stuff that I don't...no, NO! Jeebus! Ten Excruciating Cuts of Ritual Suicide is NOT an option! Okay, okay, look, Ava, honey, calm down, we'll talk. You can have your own key to the cabin, move in, call it our nest and... okay, okay! New Ancestral Nest! And for now you can bow all you..."

As Logan's highly agitated and seemingly Warbird henpecked voice faded down the third floor hallway, Elektra also turned to go, pausing in the dorm room doorway to frown knowingly and point with her chin behind the towel clutching and deeply disappointed Miya.

"The old, accidental naked backside in the door mirror routine, Miya-san? Cute. Well, we both managed a dinner invitation with Logan and his damned Warbird tonight. Let's go in together for mutual moral support. Sounds like a pretty depressing time and unfriendly crowd for both of us. Meet you out here after you're dressed."

Glancing behind her and then blushing in abject horror as Elektra left and closed the dorm room door, Miya brought her bunched towel up in truly mortified shame to hide her bowed head and unaccustomed hot tears of frustration. Another totally disastrous day and surely a disastrous evening meal too! Why hadn't the Woman in Green made proper introductions and explain/corroborate Miya's purposes for coming to this incredibly weird planet with its super powered Warbirds, blue skinned shape shifters, super telepaths, teleporting witches, sexy mutant ninjas, and even flying children? All the adult females she had seen today had been far more beautiful and sexier looking than her! And why did every meeting with Logan have to go so horridly and humiliatingly wrong? She wasn't a cold hearted killer! Not like number 04 Karasuba! So why was he reading Miya as one, again? Even worse, although it had been accidental, why had Logan simply laughed at her naked body, and not been, been, interested, even a little! Was she that undesirable and not sexy? At all? How depressing! And if 01 Miya couldn't get the warrior/hero Logan to feel compassion for her Earth's Sekirei, let alone simply believe they exist or even think about having a reacting Miya for a winged mate too, then why was she here?


	4. Chapter 4

**House of L**

_Author's note: Here, in the spirit of the 1992 swimsuit edition, is a Wakanda Wild Side of a Marvel universe female who's who...so for the comic fans and curious about the multiple characters of this chapter... hopefully ye olde comicvine . com name search is the ticket for more in depth enjoyment... or just sit back and read Logan's approaching train wreck... _

**Chapter 4 – Poison and Hepzibah – Hot Sects Effects**

"Stone walls do not a prison make," Logan muttered darkly to himself as he squinted his eyes, and, almost like an adolescent Peeping Tom pervert doing his utmost not to get caught, cautiously peered into the Jean Grey Academy's basement cafeteria. Luckily for him the door opened out into the hall instead of inward so he could remain unseen. He shifted his head a little as his eyes widened in suspicious, frowning concern and he beheld the large room's interior scene through the small crack between the partially open door and its door jamb. Yep. Ava'Dara was up to something all right, and he didn't need an old spastic robot waving its cheesy articulated arms and shouting "Danger Will Robinson! Danger!" to know that something mighty screwy was going on in there. Or to be more accurate, would go on if he simply barged inside as if he was a mindless and/or totally crazed nutburger like Deadpool. One quick accidental glimpse of the usually very modest, chaste, and conservative Avenger witch Clea Strange through the crack in the door had stopped an unsuspecting Logan in his tracks before he had walked mindlessly into the cafeteria. His natural wild animal instinct and caution had then made him hug the concrete walls of the basement hallway behind the door and eyeball the cafeteria's current situation a lot more closely.

"Nor iron bars a cage," Logan continued softly to himself while scowling in deeper suspicion, hiding in the hall behind the door, and feeling the hackles rise on the back of his neck that something really weird and maybe wild would hit him if he walked inside, "but with apologies to Richard Lovelace, I'm pretty sure a bunch of females in high heels, sexy bras, and thong underwear probably do. Or make one helluva inescapable trap. Sure ain't looking innocent or quiet in there either. Now why in the hell?"

Logan began cataloging the scantily clad and idly chatting young females standing around the tables set for what was supposed to be a routine Mexican cuisine dinner. Ava'Dara had said she was using dinner tonight for her alien meal melding Shi'ar ritual, but just what did that really mean? Wasn't it just supposed to be some kind of friend making activity, like maybe an esprit de corps gig? But THIS? Hey, recruiting some extra female fighting personal to defend a fictional nest to satisfy some alien instinct and then those gals doubling up as prison security guards was one thing, but was some psychic dinner ritual while all of them were almost naked really necessary for them to become gal pals? With him as the ONLY male in there? If so, how did anybody use beef enchiladas topped with cheese sauce, guacamole, and sour cream for something like that anyway, let alone the sides of refried beans and Mexican rice? And several big bowls of strawberry jello? And what was with all the floral scented candles and incense? With several bottles of tequila, already salted glasses, and four or five large pitchers of what looked like Margarita mix? He scowled deeply in suspicion again as he continued scanning the room's occupants trying to get a clue as to what Ava'Dara was really up to.

Logan could easily see Colleen Wing, Silver Sable, Misty Knight, and Maria Vasquez, aka Tarantula, the four of them the veritable heart of Heroes for Hire, and all wearing black high heels and matching black sport bras and French cut panties. Damn. Every one was a damn fine, muscle toned, and highly fit fox in their identical scanty outfits which weren't doing much to hide their varied skin colors, or anything else. On the other hand they were wearing a lot more cloth than the black thong and demi bra silk underwear being worn by the amiably chatting Black Lotus and her three identically clad Asian female companions.

The tall and very shapely Lotus, a former Femizon team member, was talking to a mutant warrior Logan thought might be Brittany Chen, aka Shuriken, as well as one deadly female ninja he had fought to a draw in the past, Ana Ishikawa, aka Shi, or Death in Japanese. All three of them were smiling at some comment from another mutant female sword fighter he had fought along side in Tokyo years ago named Shirohana, aka Pale Flower. All eight female ninjas who he remembered as applying for prison security jobs were long haired and simply stacked beauties with their clothes on, but now they looked like a swimsuit line up waiting to parade on a Miss Universe pageant stage proudly sponsored by the Asian porn industry. And all looking happy and even eager to eat a simple enchilada dinner while near nude? Way too WEIRD.

Logan also recognized two other Japanese females that had fought together against Daredevil in the past as part of The Nail team. The fetching duo standing apart from the others and silently watching were pink haired, slim, and yet curvaceous Cherry Blossom wearing a much too short and revealing Japanese schoolgirl outfit, and the taller, very voluptuous, and long black haired Yuki wearing a white kabuki mask, high heel shoes, a barely covering, semi see-through, white thong panty and its matching gauzy bra. There was hardly enough tensile strength in the tiny bra to give any support, not that she needed any. Logan swallowed hard. Both of them he knew to be functionally insane, but Damn! Instant wood! What in the Billy HELL was Ava'Dara doing?

He tore his eyes away from Yuki's very impressive and mostly exposed chest and shifted his head to peek further around the room. There was Elektra in her usual red, French high rise outfit and looking almost demure in this crowd. Beside her stood the lavender haired, oddball newcomer Miya Asama looking down right puritanical in her dark, long sleeved mini dress and black thigh high boots. Miya's face was blushing a furious red as she stared silently at the too scantily clad young female ninjas about her in open mouth shock, and especially at the older, way too exposed Poison, Ava'Dara, Clea Strange, Wanda Maximoff, and Jessica Jones Cage. Logan began shaking his head and seriously began thinking about edging noiselessly back down the hall towards the kitchen's back door. He was hungry, but not enough to brave whatever in the hell was obviously waiting to ambush him in the cafeteria from that group of seventeen females.

Hey, Logan silently counseled his hardening and brainless manhood, Ava'Dara wearing thong panties, a demi bra, and heels to dine with friends, okay. He was slowly getting used to her maybe borderline too possessive and quirky Shi'ar habits while exposing broad expanses of her skin and assets around him in social and domestic situations. Elektra in her usual sexy scarlet fighting togs, not a problem really, fetching as always, but after all the years they had known each other, he was used to her mostly undressed look all the time too.

His cook though, Cecillia Cardinale, was wearing her Poison fishnet stockings, half bra, panties, and heels outfit while doing her best Betty Page impression. This outfit along with the way the stunning, tall, mutant Cuban beauty with huge masses of auburn colored hair was impressively floating around while telekinetically arranging the table settings, uhhh, damn, it was just a total mind blowing sight. But since she was a regular at Thursday night stud poker with the B.A.D. Girls and Verre, he could also deal with that sight almost calmly, maybe. But what were two Avenger witches doing at Ava'Dara's Mexican dinner that he thought was supposed to be some kind of camaraderie and team spirit building for the House of L security personnel? A casual pre-hiring get together with a couple of his Avenger teammates just dropping by for a meal, right? In bikinis? With a lot of booze and table candles for soft lighting? All this he MIGHT be able to accept as very odd but very warily bearable.

On the other hand, a buff and built Jessica Jones Cage was wearing dark blue, high heeled boots and her bosom enhancing, gray spandex outfit that was trimmed in aquamarine with a matching, hip hugging sash. This was her Jewel battle uniform from when she was with the Avengers years ago. Jessica was also done up with makeup, a primped hairdo, and obviously going out of her way to look smoking hot. THAT from a gal always wearing baggy shirts and jeans was NOT a usual sight, nor casual, way beyond odd, and giving off vibes of being somewhere in some mating cougar on the prowl territory. As was the buxom and wanton looking Wanda Maximoff in a thin strap Scarlet Witch uniform that was barely covering anything and very closely rivaling Yuki's skin exposure. But the day a basically shy Clea Strange showed up to a simple enchilada, beans, and rice dinner wearing nothing but high heels and a dark purple Brazilian bikini that proved she was hair waxed removed from the neck down, Logan groused to himself, now THAT was way beyond the pale, her pale skin actually, and damned dangerous to his status as a bachelor.

Man, that entire group in the cafeteria, every one an exotic beauty in their own right, didn't need any salsa for their chips either. They WERE salsa, extra hot and spicy too. And what in the hell was with five huge bowls of strawberry jello and four, large, plastic covered gym mats along the far cafeteria wall? Along with "psychic meal melding" and plenty of booze too? This setup was definitely not a casual anything, and his innate animal sixth sense of impending danger and self preservation was raising the hair all over his body as if Sabertooth was near and ready to attack.

Logan craned his neck, shifted his head back and forth, and even moved the door a little wider to eyeball the cafeteria's entrance to the kitchen. No sign of the B.A.D. Girls or Verre. Now what the hell? Poison was making and serving this dinner alone without any of her usual kitchen help? The first three Girls, Black Mamba, Asp, and Diamondback were ex-members of the old Serpent Society that had worked as a mercenary team before the wars. Didn't do to well at it either and almost starved during and after the wars until he had hired them as cleaning maids and menial kitchen help for Poison. It wasn't like the three snake handling beauties not to be around at meal time, either helping to serve, joining in, clearing the tables afterward, and doing the dishes. They never missed a meal either. Something really screwy here with them not around too.

Verre was a different story. She had been a damn fine assassin, one very skilled with her unique weapon called an Indian Urumi Whip, a very flexible sword that pretty much looked like a wide band-saw blade with a handle that could do double duty as Verre's belt yet be ready for instant action. She had worked for the Sublime Corporation until her boss had lost his head and was shoved into a fusion generator by the High Council after the wars ended. Now why wasn't she in the cafeteria with Poison? The B.A.D. Girls couldn't butter burnt toast or boil an egg, yet Verre was a pretty damn good French chef and loved cooking. She could become visibly and telepathically invisible, even in direct sunlight, but she had to be naked to disappear. It was a helluva power for an experienced assassin on a mission of paid murder, but serving an enchilada dinner? Why disappear? Nah. Something way WRONG with her not being here.

Verre had been a Raft prison chef, and, during a routine parole board meeting after the wars ended, had made and served the best damn Pot-au-feu Logan had ever tasted. She was also a red-blonde sultry bitch with fire in her hazel eyes, which had maybe swayed his interest in paroling and hiring her as an Academy cook a wee teeny tad as well as her tasty beef and veggie stew. It had been Verre's idea to start the Thursday night stud poker parties with Poison, the B.A.D. Girls, and Logan about a month after he had gotten her paroled from prison and placed into his protective custody. They only played with poker chips, but the one with the biggest pile by the stroke of midnight won the lake cabin's main bed for the night, with or without Logan in it, their choice. Logan usually played to sleep alone, but lately he was beginning to think all five women were better cheaters at poker than he was. Since this was a Tuesday night, Verre should have been in the kitchen with Poison for any dinner with this many people attending, not off somewhere stacking a few sneaky cold decks. Where were Poison's four kitchen helpers? Especially the one that really loved to cook?

Logan frowned again and gave the room's intimidating interior one last peek. Nope. Screw this. It was time to sneak a couple of raw steaks out of the kitchen and beat a hasty retreat to grill them in the fire-pit among the trees near his lakeside cabin. Take a six pack of cold beer and a bag of wavy potato chips too. Fourteen warrior women and two visiting witches wearing less cloth together than the one odd newcomer Miya Asama? Ava'Dara insisting on having some kind of ritualistic psychic meal melding, and her "Lord" Logan as the only male eating in the middle of them all? Candlelight? Gym mats? Margaritas in pitchers? Jello? Uh Uh, No Way, and just what in the hell was a psychic meal meld anyway? In bikinis? This fiasco had all the earmarks of an all night Roman orgy of epic magnitude way beyond his personal and maybe old time conservative comfort zone. Ava'Dara's "ritual kill sharing" or "psychic meal melding" or whatever it was, had classic future, multiple emo female TROUBLE, competing unhappiness, big time henpecking control, and ongoing insane meddling in his life written all over it, and far beyond his loony ex-wife Viper's evil manipulations in the past.

Still, Yuki's massive hooters WERE a giant temptation to …. nope. One female at a time Canucklehead, Logan shook his head. Besides, Yuki was Deadpool type insane, as was Cherry Blossom, and Logan was beginning to suspect Ava'Dara's grip on reality. To misquote Lovelace again, if he had freedom from love and in his soul stayed free, then he could soar like angels above, and enjoy his liberty. Or, hell, a camp fire meal by himself was a very small price to pay for his own sanity and keeping all those hot looking gals a safe distance away from his short future. He would just content himself with Ava'Dara's considerable charms as long as he was here, no more.

This last silent self declaration of non involvement intent with any more females lasted almost forty five seconds after he had sneaked into the kitchen from the hall door and verified that it was indeed empty of Verre and the B.A.D. Girls Inc. Hurriedly snagging three large rib-eye steaks from the kitchen's walk in cooler, two six packs of canned Molson beer, a bag of potato chips, and three long handled hot dog skewers, Logan turned to beat a hasty retreat to his cabin when Poison, his auburn haired Cuban cook named Cecillia Cardinale, came into the other end of the kitchen via the cafeteria door.

CeeCee had at one time been an innocent university student with questionable common sense, slightly below average I.Q., and marginal scholastic ability. During her school days, she had been very badly abused, impregnated, and eventually imprisoned in extremely unsanitary conditions by a powerful and married military man in Cuba whose career was threatened by her extramarital pregnancy. The man then proclaimed CeeCee was nothing more than a lying prostitute trying to blackmail him. A short time after she gave birth, CeeCee became terminally ill as a result of her time in prison but luckily escaped to Florida with her baby. There she had met a powerful, psychic, but bodiless alien from another dimension named Ylandris that had accidentally traveled to Earth 616; probably due to her also being a little I.Q. challenged as dimension hopping aliens go.

Ylandris was also dying from her incorporeal form being dispersed into the atmosphere and needed a solid body to contain her life force. At the time, new single mother and latent mutant CeeCee was desperate to live for her baby son. She agreed to share her diseased mutant body with Ylandris in return for the alien's healing. Together they formed a combined psychic powerhouse; a single symbiotic entity that had very strong multiple powers of levitation, telekinesis, teleportation, shape shifting, super strength, super healing, and even the ability to attack others psionically by altering their body chemistry and making them sick, injured, and diseased. However, their mutagenic symbiosis did NOT mean that the resulting Poison/Ylandris symbiont would be all that additive intelligent, and, she/they weren't, nor too comfortable with the English language.

"Ahhh, Senor Logan!" Poison hissed in obvious disappointment with a very hurt expression on her face. Damn! She had spotted him trying to balance everything he was carrying and scoot out the rear door. Her facial expression said it all to him as he jerked his head around to look at her. He was sneaking out of Ava'Dara's very important bonding dinner? One that she, Cecillia Cardinale, had worked so hard alone for hours to carefully prepare to perfection for him and wanted so much to join after Ava'Dara had explained its purpose?

"A donde vas?"

This was delivered in a very demanding, petulant tone with overtones of instant anger, disappointment, projected guilt of the naughty naughty, shame shame variety, and a highly wounded female ego. Telling her where he was going was NOT going to go over big, but what the hell. Be a man, Logan advised himself. Stand up for a man's right to flee like a total coward from an impending and overwhelming hormonal barrage, or forever be a prisoner of female powers and volatile emotions.

"I'm going to grill these steaks over a camp fire down by the lake, CeeCee," Logan returned with a sigh at having not moved fast enough. "I've decided I need to eat alone tonight and think some things over. Okay?"

"No, No, NO! Ay Chihuahua! Ees NO Okay!" Cecillia exclaimed as she levitated herself in a blur through the air towards him and at the same time locked his lower body down in a strong telekinetic grip worthy of Jean Grey on her best day. After slamming into him and ramming him into the still closed rear door that had to be pulled to open, she reached for him, let herself fall to her knees, wrapped her super strong arms around his knees, and began weeping against his muscular thighs. Pitifully. Dammit.

"Mi amante! Mi alma! Mi vida! Por favor! No te vayas! Mi todo! Me estas matando aqui!"

"CeeCee, babe, I'm just leaving to think things over, not trying to kill you here," Logan sighed again. Damn! He had always been a sucker for crying females. And red heads. Particularly the pitiful ones. With long legs, sexy rear ends, and big tits and, and... Nope. Nope. Get a grip here, bub.

"Look, your lover, your soul, your life, and your everything is NOT gonna be the only guy eating enchiladas and drinking tequila in a room full of almost naked female ninjas, warriors, and witches. It's too damn dangerous!"

"Es peligroso?" She looked up at him with her tear filled eyes suddenly full of anxious concern. "Uhhh, you, uhhh, may bees gets hurt? Muy peligroso? Verdaderamente?"

"That's right, truly, muy dangerous," Logan nodded while trying to show a semi pleading facial expression of reasonableness, calm, and common sense. "Way too many senoritas and only one senor. And booze. What are they up to anyway? I got a giant hunch it's a life long multiple sex trap I'll never get out of and don't want. Did I mention too much booze in there? You know I only have room for one passenger on the back of my bike, right? Same way with my bed. Just like our poker and popcorn Thursdays. One gal, one guy only, no more. It's the best that way for me. And for the gal. Otherwise there's too much confusion and no real satisfaction. One on one, more time together is best. Understand?"

"Si," Cecillia's facial expression instantly took on a more calculating look since it was obvious Logan would never cooperate with meddling Ava'Dara's multiple female melding scheme. Time for every mind and body melding horny female to do her own meddling. And solo melding. "Una mujer, un hombre, Si! Mas tiempo juntos es mejor!"

Although Poison, a former male hating vigilante and part time assassin, had never been intellectually feared, she could add one gal and one guy to equal more quality and quantity "melding" time together alone instead of one gal bucking much slimmer odds of seventeen to one. It also didn't take a feral genius on his part to see that she was also figuring the odds and methods whereupon Logan's one psychic and body melded partner tonight would be her and only her. And she must have reached the conclusion that her odds for that were a lot higher with the pitifully weeping female wrapped around her soft touch lover's knees method.

Logan caught Poison's intent even if he didn't quite catch all the ensuing rapid fire Spanish amidst her renewed crying and begging jag, especially when the volume of her voice began slowly to rise; which as any fool male and past poker buddy trying to quietly sneak out of a kitchen adjoining a loose gang of horny looking female fighters knew, was blackmail. Poison's rising decibel ploy was simply raw, unmitigated, snitch threatening blackmail of the basest and most childish sort, but it was highly effective. Damn.

"Okay, okay," Logan capitulated quickly while mentally shrugging. So to avoid the cafeteria "melding" with seventeen drunk and potentially way too possessive females, he wouldn't sleep alone tonight as he had wanted. He'd just have to deal with CeeCee's too emotional and self inflicted romantic attachments to him later, if he could, and hopefully without hurting her too much when the shit hit the High Council fans. Good luck with that, he sighed again while rolling his eyes upward.

On the other hand Poison was probably one of the most tender, attentive, and caring females he had ever known, right in there with Itsu and Mariko, if maybe a little too vocal in the bedroom, yet always willing and eager for anything once there. And she had warm soft lips, long legs, hot supple hips, sexy thighs, bubble buttocks, and big sensitive tetas that for some unknown reason she had chosen all to be exclusively his not too long after the night he had hired her.

Logan hadn't remembered too much about Poison months earlier when she had arrived half starved and pitifully begging for a job at the rear door of the Jean Grey Academy. She had also been heartbroken over her grown son dying one of those all too common, rear echelon soldier's death where he had simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time. A small Shadowbox Empire bomb drone's guidance system had malfunctioned, and it veered off course to wipe out the mess tent in which he was simply cooking a company meal, not the nearby fusion generator supplying the base's automatic defensive weaponry. Instantly feeling sorry for her loss and lamentable condition in the current lousy I.D.P. economy, and although he didn't research her past too carefully, Logan sensed she was totally honest, and he discovered she was one helluva cook that had worked extensively as a hotel banquet chef before the wars with her now dead son.

Logan did remember years before the Shadowbox Wars, during a HYDRA versus S.H.I.E.L.D gang fight and on opposing sides, he had jammed his right claws into Poison's magnificent chest during the melee. Afterward he had taken her to the air carrier's sickbay and given her a blood transfusion to help her recover while she had feverishly called for someone named Ylandris. Aside from taking her in after the wars ended when she was jobless, broke, lonely, and homeless, CeeCee's present one sided and escalating devotion must have come from some kind of leftover "you killed me, then revived me, and now you own me" thing augmented by her healing and psychic symbiotic relationship with the similarly amorous and mentally challenged alien female Ylandris. And maybe a few too many beers and night hijinks together on the nights she was the big winner at stud poker. Even though he wasn't "in love" with Poison/Ylandris, or both of them as it were, the result in the sack together had always been mutually pleasing when time, opportunity, and horniness had permitted.

"CeeCee, Honey, you stay here and serve Ava'Dara's dinner, okay? If, no, wait, WHEN Ava asks, tell her I had to go to an emergency planning meeting and to just go ahead and do her meal melding thing in there tonight without me. I'm not answering my phone except for my emergency number, so if anyone simply calls down here looking for me, tell them I'm busy eating. When you're done with your dinner, come down to my cabin, don't just teleport in and risk a stabbing, but knock three times on the back door just like its stud poker night, okay?"

"SI! SI! Es MUY Okay!" Cecillia began rising upwards while planting soft kisses along the way until her tear shining eyes were even with his. "I helps Ava'Dara! Ava'Dara helps me! Entonces, I comes to you for ooo la la! To ehh, ehhh, umm, voy a ser tu esclava sexual y usted va a ser mi maestro! Siglos de los siglos mi amor!"

After French kissing him for several long seconds in a silent promise of much more to be had later, the bikini clad, symbiotic Cuban/alien cook in fishnet stockings whirled happily away to serve her Mexican dinner to a mixed international crowd of Japanese, Greek, and American females along with one Wundagorian witch, one alien Shi'ar, one also alien Sekirei from unknown planet Kouten, and a half alien Faltine, half human witch from Dormanu's Dark Dimension where most folks probably liked their beef enchiladas smothered in ultra hot jalapenos. Probably loved their tequila swilling and jello wrestling orgies there too. Relieved he hadn't been ratted out and forced to float into the Academy's cafeteria behind her like a trussed and helpless group mating sacrifice, Logan watched the telekinetic and psychic powerhouse Poison go while thinking whatever made her and Ava'Dara happy as long as he wasn't in the middle of it.

Wait. Esclava sexual? Maestro? Siglos de los siglos? Poison was going to be his sex slave, and he her master? Forever and ever? When in the name of Hugh Hefner's ghost had that happened? Damn! Man, he had to get that nonsense taken care of fast! As well as Ava'Dara's weird ancestral nest building thing too. Even as things stood, and especially if it continued to escalate, this frigging House of L caper was going to smother him to death! He had been right earlier. Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage, but skimpy bikinis, sexy stockings, hot bodies, high heels, and a way too romantic, "melding" female's tears sure as hell did.

***scene break***

As prisons went, Hepzibah sighed in boredom, the ultra high security Raft, housing the most dangerous and powerful enemies of the Protectorate's High Council, was probably pretty decent in its way. Although, she grimaced slightly, it WAS still a prison and highly problematic for the emotional well being of a freedom loving feral alien such as she. She hated being locked up with every fiber of her being, not quite but almost as much as she hated all Shi'ar aliens in general, and one bird bitch in particular. Hepzibah had spent a good portion of her adult life in boring stir on one planet or another, but this time, this time had really pissed her off. First, she was innocent of any crime, as was most every inmate ever locked up throughout history. Second, the Raft really sucked for entertainment.

Perhaps Logan's new House of L with all the latest Shi'ar amenities and strictly built for females would be better than her current Raft cell, perhaps not, and in any case, the House would STILL be a prison. And Logan, the poor sexy bastard, Hepzibah shook her long silver tresses in half amused wonder, never could catch a break when it came to female trouble. Nor would he when the Raft's wildly mixed menagerie of the High Council's biggest female headaches across the I.D.P. ruled dimensions and galaxies got transferred into their new Westchester, New York home.

Face it. Any prison wasn't "housing" despite what the Protectorate called it, nor a collection of friendly high end condos for the Nob Hill crowd. Jail was a damn jail. A "secure" place to separate the truly bad ass threats to societal peace from the "peaceful" societies they had come from. The House of L, no matter how "inmate friendly" it might turn out to be, was still a damn jail, and as such, the same mutually distrusting and largely mutually loathing criminal cliques of humans, aliens, mutants, ferals, vampires, and witches now confined in the Raft would also transfer all their mistrust, hatred, and if the truth be exposed, natural female comparison jealousy to the new House. Except, the House would get even more truly bad ass females from all across the dimensions, all of them hating confinement as much as Hepzibah.

And, Hepzibah snickered as she unconsciously ran a grooming hand down her long, silver haired tail, oh joy, oh joy. For that real domestic harmony and homey touch, the High Council was adding in a few highly disgruntled, "innocent" female Immortals, Inhumans, and Eternals, super powered and totally pissed off at being deemed extreme security threats, just like Hepzibah and her neighbor. The goddess type prison newbies had also been forced to wear power robbing and ion beam cutting neck bands after being lulled, tricked, drugged, and/or simply knocked out from ambush. All that was NOT a prescription for happy patty-cakes and similar sweet games for Logan to deal with, let alone any socially restrained and amicable chats over afternoon tea and crumpets in the day room of a community center. As it was now, the current gals of the Raft mostly hated each others guts for various past reasons, or they at least had nominally divided into self supporting and self protecting sects with absolutely no love lost between each other. These divisions, with a few inmates playing dangerous dual loyalty roles as spies and snitches between groups, were mostly but not only, Earth 616's human mutant criminals, shape shifters, ferals, vampires, witches, and aliens. There were also a few inmates from other dimensions already, including the disgruntled yet still captive goddess types, but it was going to be a real riot when all the mixed newbies from the other dimensional Earths arrived.

Of course, there were a few loners and outcasts in the prison now, there always were. Hepzibah, a slim, curvaceous, silver skinned, silver haired, white eyed, long tailed, alien feral beauty was not accepted nor trusted by the human mutant ferals nor the other imprisoned aliens, mostly Shi'ar. That was quite understandable since she was a Mephitisoid from the planet Tryl'sart. Hers was a feline race whose interstellar empire had been defeated by the Shi'ar over a millenia ago and then brutally quarantined for their natural ability to produce powerful, thought influencing pheromones that could virtually enslave the minds of other sentient beings. Although the Mephitisoid females normally only used their natural talents for mating, the fear of them motivated the Shi'ar into forbidding both sexes of their former foes from ever leaving their home worlds and possibly leading a revolution against the Shi'ar Imperium. This was, naturally, the insecure I.D.P. High Council's current fear also now that the subjugated Shi'ar Imperium had been folded into the Protectorate.

On the other hand, Hepzibah wasn't chummy with anyone in the Raft because, well, from an early age she had always been a rebellious criminal with a very big and incurable yen for star travel, other folks valuables, wealthy alien males, married or otherwise, smuggling, weapons running, assassination, and a few other minor foibles. As a consequence, Hepzibah had seen a few prisons along the way. She was quite the experienced inmate, despite being virtually shunned and/or hated by her fellow prisoners, especially the feral alien female in the cell next door who had her own very, VERY sordid, treacherous, and bloody history.

Waiting for blue skinned alien female named Moondancer who was assigned to the cell directly across the block to return from her dinner, Hepzibah absently wandered down the past years in her mind to when she had first met her ill-natured and mutually hating Shi'ar next door neighbor. Let's see, Hepzibah squinted slightly, hadn't it all started when she had been imprisoned on the planet Alsibar ruled by the Shi'ar Emperor D'ken, brother to the later constantly warring sisters Deathbird and Lilandra, both trying to rule as the Shi'ar Majestrix after his death? Caught up in the sisters' wars, first with the Starjammers then with the X-Men, Hepzibah had managed to remain one step away from having her very shapely rear end with its lovely tail shipped back to Tryl'sart.

With the aid of a few now dead, former lovers like Corsair, Warpath, and even Namor, she had made it to Earth 616 and settled in for a long stay until the Shi'ar had made a big stink about her. Ironically, it had been the humorless and totally uninterested Scott Summers who had let her stay on Utopia instead of being forcefully deported off world. That had its small but totally interesting price that Hepzibah had paid by joining Earth 616 mutants' fight for survival on their very bigoted planet, so she had joined the X-Men. Eventually, once the devastating potential of her skills were realized, she had been recruited into Logan's secret, enemy killing X-Force, but her past heroics with them had not impressed the I.D.P. at all after the Shadowbox Wars had ended.

Nor had Hepzibah ever had any real pull/love interest with feral human mutant Logan, bless his big muscles and surprisingly soft heart anyway. Jean Grey's death had ripped all the lovey dovey romance right out of him, and he hadn't really recovered much since, but he had been friendly to Hepzibah as well as a deadly fighting companion and an incredibly skilled kill squad leader. Then the Wars had begun and ended to return him more morose, closed off, and oddly cold to all females, even his closest friends. His current Hero of the Protectorate status wasn't doing Hepzibah any good either, and since the cash strapped I.D.P. was too cheap to pay her deporting space fare to Tryl'sart, back to dull, boring prison quarantine she had went. Hepzibah was under no childish illusions of the Protectorate's good will, however, neither of their ways to save money, nor of their paranoia. Soon it would most probably mean a very cheap execution and new meaning to terminal boredom for all the Raft's inmates. Even transferring to Logan's new prison wasn't ultimately going to change that, unless they caught a big break, and now, they just might have if exploited properly.

To that end was the happy/hated coincidence of twice former Majestrix and feral Shi'ar named Deathbird now incarcerated in the Raft cell adjacent to Hepzibah. Cal'syee of the Neramani Royal House had survived that old back and forth imperial struggle with her sister, led yet another rebellion and this time was captured by an I.D.P. star cruiser to land her feral ass and wings in the Raft awaiting further "evaluation". For a few weeks afterward, Hepzibah had spent her days and nights taunting Deathbird. When not doing that, boredom in stir had been kept at bay by Hepzibah dreaming of ways to exact her personal vengeance upon her ancient foes, Deathbird in particular, and at the same time win her freedom from the Protectorate's lethal grip. Hepzibah really had only one weapon besides her very sharp intellect and feral super senses, her Mephitisoid pheromone power. That trait just might be able to get Hepzibah free and away from any I.D.P. future execution if the gossip she had heard at dinner about Logan getting a new female Shi'ar bed-mate was true. It might really back stab Deathbird at the same time if handled right. Heh. The things one could learn with super hearing even clear across a large cafeteria in a prison. It did make eating the very plain prison fare more interesting.

Oh, good, Hepzibah bared her fangs in an anticipatory grin, the alien female Moondancer across from her had just been returned from her dinner shift. Waiting several minutes for the accompanying guards to leave and apparently looking nonchalantly left and right to make sure the cell block hall was empty, Hepzibah stood before her cell's transparent front force screen rubbing her forehead with her right hand as if in sorrowful remorse for her many past criminal deeds or just in headache pain. The gesture was in fact The Raft female prisoners' silent hand code for wanting to communicate on the sneak without alerting prison guards or sound sensitive cameras. Finally her movements caught the suddenly interested yellow eyes of the blue skinned and purple haired alien beauty named Moondancer Myla in the cell directly across the block.

Myla, although not a Shi'ar, was a former trusted and long time member of the Shi'ar Imperial Guard and had the unique natural ability to pinpoint the location of any object in the vast expanse of space. The fact that the I.D.P. had recently discovered Moondancer Myla could also track the paranoid High Council's movements across different dimensions had landed her shapely rear end and impressive breasts in the Raft cell across from Hepzibah. After unzipping her drab green prison jumpsuit's too tight bodice, Myla's quick nonchalant rub of her forehead advised that she was ready to receive a clandestine message.

Hepzibah closed her eyes as if in pain and tapped her forehead twice as if frustrated at her headache and then swiped her fingers to the left towards Deathbird's cell. Myla slowly half winked her left eye in understanding, and started repeating the two tap, fingers left swipe signal at Deathbird until the former Majestrix finally looked up from watching a 3D video game show and saw Myla's hand movement. Frowning slightly in annoyance and distaste, the feral throwback Shi'ar nevertheless shoved her bunk up against the wall adjoining Hepzibah's. Deathbird and Hepzibah then casually laid face down on their cell bunks as if taking a joint after dinner snooze. Their feral ears with super hearing were then pressed against their not quite so soundproofed adjoining cell wall. Hidden by their legs and hips, and in Deathbird's case her folded, dark magenta colored wings, both alien female enemies got their claws ready for old Morse code tapping at super speed. Hepzibah began without abbreviations so as to leave nothing to misinterpretation. After all, she still hated and distrusted all the Shi'ar prisoners as much as they did her. Now to dangle the bait with just the right amount of ritual insults for sounding truthful.

"... old deathbitch… is cute galaxy you ruling now days... tens of thousands of planets reduced to looking same size as my current raft cell empire... is miracle... must make you biggest loser in history... oh wait... you lost your throne twice... and failed in third coup attempt... you special biggest triple loser of universe...and ugly too..."

"... on your best day you not fit to lick bottoms of my feet... cat shit... this minor setback... you got nowhere to run... no history of anything but being a small turd in huge planet sized sand box... and your tail been in more jail cells than feathers of my beautiful wings... cut chit chat... what you want... stink butt..."

"...want to make trade … big news now … for small favor later... leading to mutual benefits..."

"... what is favor … cat scum..."

"... need diversion... riot helpful... when we transfer to new prison... all your birds and other aliens help get me few minutes alone with logan… for smell bonding him to me... make royal pledge for same … witnessed..."

"… lmao … fuck off..."

"... your stinking bird ass stay locked up until idp kill you then... fuck you very much..."

A very long pause greeted this last round of Hepzibah's rapid fire tapping before Deathbird resumed with interest. The bait had just been nibbled at. And they said curiosity killed the cat, Hepzibah snarled in gloating triumph. It could be fatal for birds too.

"...tell me who news is about..."

"... your pal wolverine … my pal logan..."

"... logan long time enemy... no pal... worse than Storm... Shadowcat... Psylocke... Rogue... Jubilee... nasty Polaris... and as bad as the worst... Rachel piece of Phoenix shit Grey... not interested..."

"... really … that funny... he about to make you very little history footnote in your imperium... which may be moot if you think any of us got even slim chance of living... my big news might up our odds a lot..."

A space of several silent minutes went by as the ever ambitious and totally vainglorious Deathbird thought this over.

"... ok … maybe hasty … for any favor... your big news have to be very big… what guarantees you give..."

"... after my smell bonding with logan... then you get my smells help to bond you and logan too..."

"... logan bonding to me is big joke... he not even mate for fun with human mutant females he like... and not bond either... what else you got..."

"... will give moondancer link to dimension outside idp control.. after smell bonding... escape to there..."

"... type of link..."

"... fuck off deathbitch … witnessed royal pledge first... that only small part of big news anyway..."

"... cat shit … why you and me need smell bonding with logan... is permanent mating... only broken by death..."

"... bird turd … think... link to new dimension involve logan... this cat not get left behind … must work together with you for possible escape from idp... our mating logan more than worth freedom … his big feral dick for both of us is bonus..."

"... you need bird help to get logan alone … and bird need your help for bonding logan … both needed for our possible freedom through logan connection... is this correct..."

"... yes..."

"... what about other birds here..."

"... not sure … maybe not up to us … you might know after you get big news..."

"... okay … how you know logan leaving idp control..."

"... is also part of big news … pledge first … heard logan has very sexy tongue too … make birds and cats sing loud and long in bedroom..."

"... must think this over … consult others … be back soon..."

Hepzibah half smiled to herself while turning over on her cell bunk and swiveling her head up to keep a pleased eye on Myla. Dangling the bait before the former but still too snooty Shi'ar ruler had been rather fun. Bonding to Logan for her freedom out of prison and away from I.D.P. control was an absolute no brainer for Hepzibah to start with simply because she already liked and trusted the guy. Fought alongside him a lot too, and even if the male lover pickings were really slim since the Shadowbox Wars had killed so many, Logan was by far the best male fighter and lover out there. His skills would be crucial to any escape plan too.

If X-Women rumors and gossip were true, especially Domino and Dazzler's rather graphic and enthusiastic reminiscing of his totally satisfying prowess in their old bedroom trysts with him in the past, then hell yes, Hepzibah was more than ready to crouch naked before him on a long term basis. The way too proud, ambitious, and haughty Deathbird however was a bird with different feathers, but she was also a feral throwback even amongst the highly volatile Shi'ar. Deathbird knew she would never pass any I.D.P. phony "security evaluation" in the future any more than would Hepzibah and the other aliens and ferals in this prison, let alone the witches, vampires, most of the mutants, and especially the captured immortal gals with super powers that could still be killed in spite of their goddess talents.

It took over thirty minutes as Deathbird got on the prison's secret, visual hand signaling grapevine and asked for advice from her fellow female Shi'ar inmates. Hepzibah smiled outright when Myla, also Deathbird's relay for across the block work, finally gave a slight nod and then began idly making crosswise rubbing gestures over her heart as if her large left boob ached. The Royal cross her heart pledge would be given. Then Myla gave another hand signal to resume tapping conference. Deathbird was already on the wall.

"... answer up cat shit … answer up cat shit..."

"... am here now..."

"... on condition accept your terms … moondancer witnessed … as has... astra … glitter … cerise... manta … magique … gamora … spirit … tana nile … hypernova … stellaris... delphos … they all want in on deal... but only if news big enough … you not trusted cat scum... but we know idp want to kill us all soon... evaluations only phony ploy to keep logan happy... you betray plan... we kill you first... with extreme pain..."

Hepzibah snorted in amusement at all the aliens' caution before playing her ace and setting the big hook. Now all she had to do was skillfully reel her foes in.

"... hey deathbitch... here it is... royal warbird deathbringer class has recently battle heat bonded to logan … without you and others sharing... is that big enough... there is much more..."

"... wait … wait...wait..."

Hepzibah chuckled softly at this. Old Deathbird was probably really rattled clear down to her toe claws now and in the throes of a near panic attack. Royal Warbirds, Deathbringer Class only mated with their Imperial Lord, a super male ruling over her Royal House and her Empire. Since Deathbird and her daughter Deathcry were the only two House of Neramani females left, and the current Shi'ar Majestor with no royal house had been purposely put in as a very weak Protectorate puppet, that meant a new Shi'ar royal house was forming without Neramani genes, approval, and ancestral power.

"... quit stalling shit bird… we both know what this means... power and influence of neramani house will be broken forever... you want to deal for big news or not... give unconditional pledge now..."

"... yes... yes... will deal... repeat will deal... royal warbird invoking old rite from antiquity... considers current royal house too weak... forming new ancestral nest... new royal house... new empire... am hereby making royal neramani pledge per earlier terms to you… share all big news now..."

Got her! Hepzibah hissed in triumph. Okay, now to net her captured enemy Shi'ar bird.

"... deathbird... my super hearing caught photon and songbird laughing and talking at dinner... during job interviews today... royal warbird deathbringer class avadara nanganandini said she recently battle heat bonded to logan … warbird also announced today she and her lord are starting new ancestral nest of new mixed race … looking for viable new warbird recruits among ultra humans and ageless healing human mutants for new mixed and near immortal interstellar race with logan healing powers... she has met and trying to recruit unknown goddess named miya asama with powers similar to exalted warbird of antiquity …"

"...what … what … what …. wait … wait … goddess … you sure about this … is more than new race …. is whole new world..."

"... is what photon said … miya asama is new unknown goddess … warbird statement of fact … has powers like exalted warbird of antiquity..."

"... this huge news … unbelievable... did goddess show exalted powers to warbird..."

"... yes... photon also joked about carol danvers crashing new prison perimeter defenses... causing system alarms event in Raft... new house security head named elektra called to advise problem with danvers handled... miya asama easily kicked danvers ass in seconds... scarlet witch and clea strange arrive to cart knocked out and bleeding danvers back to avenger mansion..."

"... danvers has mutant kree invulnerability... kree super powers … new goddess extremely powerful then... more than ever seen by me... what else..."

"... photon called back later... tried to talk to logan but got cook named poison … cook advised logan and warbird sharing ritual kill and melding meal for forming new ancestral nest... guests included clea strange... scarlet witch... jewel... elektra... maybe dozen other mutant and human ninjas... cook poison... and goddess miya asama..."

"... royal warbird got guts… sharing kill ritual with goddess... if go wrong... whole nest dies... and warbird... am shocked... and... jealous... house of neramani... four times removed from our imperium founding goddess... we must make friend and share kill with new goddess to live now... where she from..."

"... photon and songbird then speculated goddess miya asama is from dimensional Earth outside idp control... idp has zero records of her anywhere... goddess Asama claimed she was simply teleported here but event did not trigger idp alarm... only few known asgard goddess like sersi... sif … amora... able to do that... odds very high miya goddess from unknown earth... with similar powers... I can smell bond us to her and logan and warbird... if you help... now you scratch me … me scratch you... need riot diversion on transfer to new prison and pushed close to logan for smell bond... decide..."

That ought to fluff the old bitch's feathers too, Hepzibah thought smugly. One, all Deathbird had to do now was put Logan, Ava'Dara, and an unknown super powered female from another I.D.P. free dimension together with two super mystics Clea Strange and Scarlet Witch who were each more than capable of finding and taking people to said dimension. Two, it followed that all this was happening already without Deathbird and her alien prison gang, gals who would certainly be refused to be made nest mates by the surly Logan who had fought against them all in Deathbird's long war with Lilandra, Professor Xavier's sweetheart. Nor would the Royal Warbird Ava'Dara be all that keen to add Logan's old enemies into her new nest without some Mephitisoid mind altering pheromones working on her and Logan. Now how long would old Bird Bitch have to think this through and...

"... is very big news... royal house of neramani will certainly honor pledge... will help you smell bond logan and then you smell bond us all into new ancestral nest with warbird and new goddess for escape... make us all nest mates... what else you know about new founding goddess..."

"... nothing except songbird comment... goddess has lavender hair and eyes... never seen before…. young alien beauty that made mystique and emma frost look second rate... two other news item for you... songbird worried logan maybe falling out of favor with High Council although still seems hero to most people... unknown old government agency named seventh sign has sent witch hunter to new prison... she has authority to kill any witch … vampire … werewolf … and demon spawn she deem high security risk … without evaluations..."

"... that very bad news for … mystic crowd … not us … but is still good reason for us birds and smelly cat to shag butts away from idp soonest... logan and new nest will need powerful army asap too … idp will try to track... follow and kill... we need hide until strong enough to defeat idp … maybe even come back and overthrow … take control..."

"... is reason we having this little chat … finally agree on something … however... be warned... know logan well... he will kill to protect warbird lover … he is very feral … loyal... do not try to become alpha female in new prison or his new nest... will mean war with new goddess and warbird... and screw us all up... remember your three defeats... and old failed ambitions... scarlet witch and clea strange very powerful too... keep beak out of trouble... and butt in the air for mating... deathbird..."

"... will do … am thinking council of elders good place for me... still fertile too … butt in air sounds pretty good... been too long without... keep us posted for more news... will relay and plot strategy... question... how you use smell powers wearing neck inhibitor..."

"...bird... logan has super nose... me got super smells … get me close... not to worry... he get the message..."

"... keep this all quiet... cat... no trust other cons... idp still kill all vampires despite revival treatment … new procedure regenerate all cells on molecular level.. vampires come alive but keep all their super powers … idp scared they and jubilee join mutants... lead rebellion... logan find out... he may force issue … hothead... move too soon... we need to keep him safe with goddess and royal warbird... witches be real useful in nest for additional bonding... act as council of seers... you keep tail low and mouth shut..."

"... understood … keep distance … you act same as usual... bird bitch..."

"... easy to do... cat shit …"

Hepzibah rolled over and watched Deathbird's message get relayed down the block by Moondancer slightly turning away from her cell's camera and surreptitiously code tapping her now hidden right fingers on her left elbow. In the cell beside her, Astra was doing the exact same thing going the other way. Within minutes all twelve alien prisoners wanting in on the escape plot to a new dimension were totally informed.

What the last two Shi'ar prisoners didn't know was that Bloodwitch, a vampire from Earth 6706 having feral super sight and unaffected by sunlight, was on hall mirror duty for both the vampires and witches on the open floor above. The undead red head's sharp eyes caught all of Deathbird's hand signaled message to her cohorts below and began relaying it to her friend Topaz, a beautiful, dark skinned witch with long, black curly hair across the block. She in turn relayed it to her witchy woman pal Jennifer Kale, over to Santana, then Nekra Sinclair, on to the Witch of the Winding Way Margali Szardos, over to the witches' leader, former X-Woman Magik, who then passed it down the line of other imprisoned witches and signed it to the three Siren Sect vampires from Earth 616, their leader Alyssa, back to Baroness Blood, and so on to other imprisoned vampires and mystics from across the Protectorate. Just like that, Hepzibah and Deathbird's secret plot to form a life bonded harem around Logan and gain their mutual freedom from I.D.P. control, mushroomed into, well, actually became a rapidly expanding field of multiple giant shitaki.

What neither Bloodwitch, Hepzibah, and Deathbird also didn't think about was that all prison walls have ears. In this case the ears were in the prison cell one floor directly below Hepzibah that held the shape shifters, ferals, and general run of the mill, criminally mutant, and bad ass females. A pair of these super hearing ears belonged to a nosy and alert, feral shape shifter named Maria de Guadalupe Santiago, an ex-Avenger also known as Silverclaw. Her super hearing heard the faint rapid fire tapping above, recognized it as code, slapped her wall for her neighbor's attention. Lupa, the feral human mutant next door directly under Deathbird also placed her ear on the same adjoining wall. After just a few seconds of listening, Lupa began a finger tapping on her arm relay to feral Catseye from Earth 295 across the block who also passed it all along the lower cell block and to the ferine sect's leader, Logan's former redhead lover, Remus. When finished, Lupa bared her fangs in a savage yet pleased grin. Her pheromone powers and control were ever bit as good as Hepzibah's. And sexy Logan had always intrigued both Lupa and Silverclaw.

Other mutant prisoners, some solo outcasts, some just small unaligned teams sharing common interests, fears, past relationships, and/or origins, intercepted and relayed the news up and down and across the other cell blocks on every floor. Within an hour after Hepzibah and Deathbird had exchanged their last ritual insults and the vampires had all come awake for the night, every different sect, team, outcast, and clique within the Raft's female prison wing had gotten Hepzibah's news.

Unaware of the now possibly out of control informational bomb ready to detonate upon their entrance to the House of L, Hepzibah went to sleep carefully reviewing exactly how she was going to vengefully use her Mephitisoid powers to reduce Deathbird and her Shi'ar cohorts into little more than Logan's mewling and mindless sex slaves. It would be a permanent mental prison without bars within each Shi'ar bitch's mind and a truly fitting fate for Hepzibah's ruthless Shi'ar enemies. Naturally, Deathbird went to sleep trying to plot the best precise moment she and her cohorts could defensively rip Hepzibah's guts out while yet using the hated cat's smell powers on Logan to gain their freedom.

The next hour before lights out were spent by all the Raft's various sects, cliques, and even the odd loners in making their separate plans for when they transferred to the almost finished House of L; a new prison which in a little over an hour had already become something most prisons weren't before it held a single occupant, a place of hope as well as a place of lethal hatred, fear, distrust, revenge, competing plots, and vicious female jealousy.

***scene break***

In The Raft prison, the curfew locked down Jean Grey Academy dormitory, the Academy's basement, and also the curfew locked Avengers Mansion, the fallout from Ava'Dara's seemingly innocent and hastily put together "melding" dinner spread exponentially to effect other female groups, cliques, and individuals. Driven by the total spectrum of quirks, foibles, and desires found in all their feminine natures, past experiences, and emotional differences, each handled the news of the prolonged dinner still happening in their own way.

Some, mostly younger mutant X-Women and Avengers, were totally indifferent, others, vaguely happy for Ava'Dara but unaware of how it might eventually impact them all, and some thought, "hey, cool, let's have a sexy group dinner with Logan ourselves sometime, or just join the next one, b.y.o.t., bring your own tequila." Of course there were those a little pissed and ego bruised at not being a part of Ava'Dara's dinner, either from intentionally not being invited and/or simply not even being thought of for an invitation.

Others, notably the senior X-Women and Avengers with little or no love lost for Clea Strange and the Scarlet Witch, were totally pissed off that Ava'Dara and a group of loose, low life, and mostly outsider hussies even had the AUDACITY to have such a "ritual meal melding" and booze flowing dinner with THEIR Logan in the first place. Or in more lady like language, "who in the hell did that feather brained tramp and her bunch of second rate bitches think they were anyway?" The senior X-Women and female Avengers immediately decided, independently and NOT inclusively of each other, that Ava'Dara and her first dinner melding group needed to be tossed out, maybe severely punished, and definitely replaced. Of course some mutant females were simply angry for not being able to attend because they were locked up and/or angry at their inability to help Logan avoid a possible deadly entrapment, or both.

Jubilation Lee's red eyes glowed in totally frustrated wrath as she paced back and forth in her Raft prison cell. Damn the tyrannical and bigoted I.D.P. and its criminally paranoid High Council all to Hell! She had done NOTHING to deserve this! And now her Wolvie was in very grave danger while she was helpless to warn him! Let alone have his back as she had done since she was fourteen years old! Then he had gone off to the dimensional wars and left her behind because he thought it would be safer for her! Only for her and every other mystical being to be tracked down and jailed and/or executed while he was gone! She had only survived because Storm had vouched for her as a member of the X-Men, and, and Logan was HERS, not some Shi'ar alien outcast female's sex toy! Damn! Damn! Damn!

Jubilee was no longer the skinny, gangly, bubble gum chewing, mall crawling, thieving, wise cracking, and barely pubescent mutant teenager that had first saved Wolverine's life in the Australian Outback decades ago. She was also no longer her dear Wolvie's sidekick, trainee, understudy, little sis, best chum, or even ex-teammate, nor he her brotherly mentor. She was now a full grown, full breasted, and full figured female, experienced, trained, honed by individual danger, attacks, and even galactic crises, still in love with HER Wolvie as much and maybe even more than ever, even if she was now an undead vampire, condemned to death in prison, and still a virgin. The only male that had ever been between her legs had been Logan when she had habitually rode him piggy back while popping bubblegum next to his sensitive ears for fun. She had NEVER betrayed him, NEVER really wanted another, and was NEVER going to let some alien bitch or a GROUP of alien bitches steal him from her or use him to gain THEIR freedom, let alone put him in danger of being killed by the I.D.P. High Council!

Nina Price, the blonde and white skinned, combo werewolf and vampire named Vampire by Night directly across the block from Jubilee, waved frantically at her literally fuming prison friend for almost a half an hour before getting Jubilee's attention. Then it took another couple of minutes for Jubilee to calm down enough to use super speed, universal deaf sign language to communicate.

"Jubes … calm down... think... plan... other vamps not trust us since you are Logan's best bud... and you now mine too… I am both vamp and werewolf... never liked or trusted by either group … they hiding their plans for transfer day … but you can bet our fangs they up to no good... what we do?"

"Nina... we got to find a way to talk to Logan... warn him... he will take care of everything... trust him... always been there for me... building new House bankrupted him to save me... cannot lose hope now... I know him... he has a plan to escape IDP... trust me... trust him... Deathbird says Shi'ar medics bring us vamps back to life... with keeping our powers... maybe even get my paff back.. if true... I'll kill every alien bitch trying to use him.. worried about Hepzibah though... her smell powers deadly..."

"I will help you Jubes... my gaze control powers very strong too... strong as her smells... would want to escape IDP with you and Logan... if you will let me... and we both immortal like him..."

Jubilee stared at her extremely beautiful, blond, and white skinned prison friend for several long seconds.

"Nina... are you asking me to share Logan with you... as his bed mate... if our escape successful?"

"Jubes... we have never hidden anything from each other... always heard great things about him.. see his loyalty and devotion to you... know he has reputation as great lover... I would be interested in sharing if you say okay... know you always have first place with him... but I am a virgin... never really had a boyfriend... Logan is an old guy with a lot of experience... he may not want me... but if he agrees... then yes... want to try... we both got nowhere else to turn... no one else to trust... and we will have to fight for him... and maybe keep on fighting if we going to be hunted by IDP... maybe for many, many years... right?"

Jubilee frowned slightly as she thought quickly. Yes, there would be fighting, soon and later, maybe a lot. And knowing Logan had a grand plan for their freedom did not necessarily mean he was only going to, or even intended to, escape with just Jubilee. After all, he had bonded to a Shi'ar Warbird, one helluva fighter, and Logan would never do anything like that without including the alien female in his sense of loyalty. Or leave her behind to be killed. Therefore he was prepared for being with at least two females after escaping the High Council's control. The Warbird and Jubilee. Why not a third? And who better than her best friend that had very strong multiple super powers from being both a feral werewolf and a super strong, super fast, trained to fight by Nick Fury vampire? Matter of fact, maybe they both ought to think about inviting a few more close friends they trusted to share Logan and fight with them?

Nodding slightly, Jubilee's eyes went to the cell next to Nina. There stood the tall, blonde, muscled, and super powered Kree warrior Dantella holding a small mirror to watch Nina's hand movements and now mutely looking at Jubilee with a pleading, hopeful expression. They had met on the Kree home world during an assassination attempt on the then ruling Deathbird and later became friends before they had both landed in The Raft prison during the Shadowbox Wars. No love lost for the feral Shi'ar ex-Majestrix or her alien prison gang there, and a lot of experienced super powered help in a fight. Dantella was a prison outcast pretty much like Jubilee and Nina also. Slowly, the Kree signed at Jubilee.

"Will fight for you and Logan... and I am a virgin too... will not try to steal Logan or his heart from you... but interested if you all will have me... know other super strong and experienced fighters also loners in here that could make us a very strong and feared fighting team... and probably very interested in joining Logan too..."

"Who?"

"You already know most… Yi Yang... she is super strong... Titania and Lascivious are the same... Argent and her sister Kay Cera... Sabra and Jackpot... these all have almost goddess powers... vampire Spitfire has super speed and fire blasts... Spiral has very strong teleport, time travel, and dimension warp powers … Ecstasy very powerful in dark dimension, teleporter, and big blasting powers... Indries Moomji has big smell control powers … Cerise is Shi'ar warrior and deserter from Imperial Guard... no pal of Deathbird gang... might help convince Warbird to include the rest of us... if you help us be accepted by Logan..."

Jubilee's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Dantella must have been very busy on the prison grapevine in the few minutes Jubilee had been pacing in barely controlled fury.

"You have already talked to all of them... right?"

"Yes … and Red She Hulk… biggest hitter of us all... we all want on your team... you lead..."

Jubilee exchanged speculating looks with her wide eyed, werewolf/vampire friend Nina Price. Damn! That was one potentially very formidable fighting team! But not unbeatable by a massive force of I.D.P. battle cruisers and their latest Sentinel models. Nor a few negabombs. But what if they could add a few coordinating telepaths and defensive force field generators? Hepzibah's communication with Deathbird had hinted at some captured immortals, maybe even goddesses, as well as some heavy hitting mutant criminals from other dimensional Earths. A few outcast Jean Greys and Sue Storms would be ideal. Interesting. Hell, with that kind of firepower and with Logan in command, it wouldn't take much or many more to just kick the High Council's ass out of power and get some friendlier and more reasonable people running the whole damn Protectorate. And what if she and Logan could use Deathbird and her cuties as front line fodder while fighting? Who really cared if they survived or not? Even if they did, they could be killed later if they tried to hurt her Wolvie. Jubilee nodded at both Nina and Dantella before signing to them.

"Am open to sharing and team idea... but need to think about all of this carefully... you guys too... Logan is not a harem kind of guy at all... old time family type... very loyal to one he loves... one... he will fight to help us gain freedom... but most likely he say you all find another guy afterward... just so you know... if cured in House of L... I want him to marry me..."

"We are willing to take our chances..." Dantella signed back in return with Nina Price agreeing.

Jubilee shrugged and nodded again, still furious inside at Deathbird and Hepzibah's highhanded conspiracy, but now with a lot more to think about as she resumed pacing her cell.

At the same time their ex-teammate Jubilee was wearing out her cell floor tile, the dinner had ended on a "HIGH" note, and the Jean Grey Academy game and leisure room was now abuzz with X-Women activity, concern, and consternation. Sensitive telepaths Rachel Grey, Psylocke, Sage, Monet St. Croix, Hope Summers, Blindfold, Karma, and the three Stepford Cuckoos were all still attempting to calm down from Ava'Dara's dinner finishing, crude, yet very powerful psychic broadcast of reliving her initial battle heat bonding with Logan. The reason that "HIGH" note had hit all the X-Women telepaths so hard was because a half tequila looped Poison had tuned in and unconsciously added her considerable psionic power to Ava'Dara's. It had been quite disconcerting when all ten X-Women telepaths had dropped weak kneed wherever they were in the building and began shuddering in surrendering, ongoing, and muscle locked orgasmic waves of keening ecstasy. Which was exactly how Ava'Dara had bonded to Logan. Other mutant females who weren't telepathic but were psychically strong also experienced Ava'Dara's psionic broadcast with lessened, but nevertheless very effective intensity and blushing pleasure. Among these were Storm, Cecillia Reyes, Domino, Dagger, Armor, Boom Boom, and Cluster.

Afterward, all seventeen female mutants, literally floored by what they had felt, either made it to the game room under their own power or were carried/teleported in by Pixie, Blink 295, and Blink 616. Once on the room's couches and overstuffed chairs, the afterglow stricken females were tended with cool wet towels, cold drinks, and even ice compresses to reduce their sudden and still fevered heat. Kitty Pryde, Dazzler, Polaris, and Rogue organized the impromptu nursing effort aided by the group's three teleporters, Wolfsbane, Surge, Magma, Lifeguard, Cipher, Skids, X-23, Dani Moonstar, and Amp.

Recovery by those orgasmic stricken was a study in diverse reactions to their previous vocal, physical, and vaginally secreted responses to Ava'Dara's dinner melding broadcast. A few were simply mortified and red face embarrassed, a few nonplussed as hell while trying to understand what had happened, but most just stared up at the room's ceiling in a mind numbed, eye crossed afterglow of panting bliss. Their frowning nurses moved among them with concern, and, after a few quick panted explanations, envy.

All this led to a later meeting of the now angry senior X-Women, Storm, Kitty, Rachel, Rogue, and Psylocke, discussing ways to handle Ava'Dara and her new group of total outsiders trying to hijack their Academy's Headmaster and martial arts instructor. The immediate result was they were going to confront Logan and his Shi'ar Warbird tomorrow in their scheduled afternoon meeting and demand that he stop his I.D.P. assassin and Avenger duties to concentrate solely on his care of the Academy and teaching while letting his House of L administrators simply do their damn jobs. Individually, the five long time friends each privately began doing a little scheming for replacing the Warbird in Logan's favors on their own.

A similar meeting was being held at the same time in the New York Avengers Mansion after a half Margarita blitzed Wanda Maximoff and Clea Strange had returned with beatific, sultry, droop lidded smiles and immediately taken long hot showers. Upon Spider Woman Jessica Drew's eyebrow raised demand as to just what in the hell had the two witches been up to, Wanda psionically projected a small replay of Ava'Dara's ecstasy that literally enthralled Jessica, Black Widow, Mockingbird, the feral Tigra, She Hulk, her other dimensional relative, Savage She Hulk, Firestar, Hellcat, Sersi the Asgard goddess, Valkyrie, Firebird, spell caster Sister Grimm, the Black Cat, Scorpion, and the still drunk Captain Marvel, Carol Danvers.

Janet Van Dyne, the Wasp and current leader of the eighteen New York based Avenger females, was not too impressed since she had never been a big fan nor close friend of Wolverine. However, he was still a very powerful teammate and vital stabilizing force among the now mostly female Avengers. She gave Clea and Wanda a very sour look after seeing the various reactions to Wanda's rebroadcast of Ava'Dara's bonding to Logan with basically the same results and concerns that had been experienced in the Jean Grey Academy's mutant females. Janet convened a meeting whose ultimate decision basically mirrored the demands of the X-Women. It was time for Logan to take his rightful place as an Avenger leader, let his administrative staffs in the Academy and House of L do their jobs, and keep his I.D.P. assassination work to a bare minimum so that he could assemble with his Avenger team when needed, not just visit on Saturdays. And just like their X-Women competitors, a few of the older Avenger females that had a past close knit history with Logan began their individual private scheming for Logan's favors too, most notably the Black Widow, Spider Woman, Black Cat, and Carol Danvers along with newly interested Tigra, She Hulk, Clea, and Wanda.

Other reactions to Ava'Dara's broadcast came on a more disorganized and/or solely individual basis. Most of the tequila and now "melding" addled warrior females who had attended and later participated in Ava'Dara's dinner each shakily retired to their Academy dormitory rooms for individual hot showers, sensual self relief, and a night of lurid dreaming about a near future and solo hot bonding encounter with Logan of their own.

Elektra paced her room in the nude like an agitated tigress in heat, trying to decide how and how soon she could waylay Logan without interference from or confronting Ava'Dara and the too powerful Poison. Not only did Elektra now have a REALLY giant itch Logan needed to scratch, the two of them did need to discuss ways to handle the I.D.P. incarceration of Wild Thing Rina Logan, the daughter of their dead counterparts from another dimension. Maybe, she grabbed her long handled hair brush as she thought about taking another prolonged hot bath, she could visit his cabin at dawn and sneak in for a big piece of morning wood? Better than being cooped up here, and Poison and Ava'Dara had to sleep sometime, didn't they?

A booze buzzed Jessica Jones Cage simply snuggled under the bed covers after her long, and quite frankly, sensuous shower session. She had just enough wits left about her to sleepily answer little Danielle's question. Was Unca Logan going to become her new daddy like she and the Green Lady wanted? Shuddering and dreamily smiling, Jessica simply murmured "maybe" before sinking into a dreamless, tension free, and restful sleep for the first time since she had learned of her former husband's death.

Emma Frost, one of the world's most powerful telepaths, was sleeping badly in her modified cell just down the hall from the cafeteria and experiencing intense psionic visions despite the ability inhibitor around her neck. It had taken a couple of years for her mind reading and controlling powers to return after her former lover Scott Summers had blasted her with his eyes to steal her share of the Phoenix powers. That act had royally pissed her off at the time. Even so she had missed him badly since his death in the wars and regularly dreamed about their past love life. Only on very rare occasions had she been awakened from dark, heart pounding, and decidedly kinky nightmares that included a snarling, beast enraged Logan, his long claws, and positions that had her forcibly pinned and/or simply submitting to mating with him in wild abandon. Tonight was one of those nights, on a dream roof top, clothes cut away by Logan's claws, pinned, and pounded into ongoing keening and screaming waves of sexual pleasure. The strange kinky nightmares finally subsided into an almost golden yet subconsciously disturbing glow that still left her tossing and turning, muttering in her sleep with the memory feel of her hands leisurely rubbing the massive muscles on Logan's shoulders, chest, and arms, and then later, her own body.

In the modified cell next door, Raven Darkholme was having even more troubles sleeping. She kept dreaming about the many ways she had exacted bloody revenge on Logan for almost a century, except he never died. And each murderous attempt by her dissolved back into the dust filled, hot, and sweaty hayloft of a horse stable in Juarez Mexico in the early 1900's, the place where Logan had first made love to her while insisting that she be in her own blue skinned, red haired, and yellow eyed shape. She had never done it like that before, too embarrassed, too wary, and too scared of being rejected. He had made love to her as if, as if, well, as if they were simply normal human beings.

Mystique had never been vocal in lovemaking, ever, but that first time, that first sweet time, Logan had made her cry, groan, and moan loudly. He had caressed her like no other lover had ever done before, and none since, especially after they had climaxed hard together that first time. Then he had made love to her again. Same sweetness, and continued to be that way for all the months that they had traveled and made love together. That had made his eventual betrayal of her bank robbery scheme in Kansas City the most bitter and heartbreaking thing that had ever happened to her and had fueled a murderous hell hath no fury rage ever since that had become an almost Jack the Ripper type killing of Logan insanity. Except, lately, especially since Logan had saved her from execution, she had been dreaming about their first days in that hot, sleepy little village in long ago Mexico again, that dusty, sweltering, sweaty, sweet time on a smelly horse blanket up in the stable hayloft. Tonight, she was back there again, trying to kill him with a pitchfork but somehow winding up joined to him as his blue skinned mutant lover, over and over and over in a dreaming roller coaster of passion that she couldn't escape or wake up from no matter how hard she tried, moaned, and cried.

Up in Ava'Dara's dormitory room, Miya Asama was also now suffering the absolute worse effects of anyone from Ava'Dara's psychic broadcast. One of two non drinking and sober females who had left the melding dinner early, the "already reacting to Logan" goddess from the Sekirei planet of Kouten was not sleeping badly, having bad dreams, or kinky nightmares. Still fully clothed, Miya was simply moaning and writhing weakly under a stream of very cold water in intense and fevered pain on the floor of Ava'Dara's bathroom shower. When the combined strength of Ava'Dara and Poison's psionic bomb had exploded in her brain and caused intense heat to engulf her body, Miya had almost went catatonic with her avian instinctive desire for Logan to wing her. In sheer mindless desperation for self preservation, she had stumbled then crawled from the bedroom into the shower and turned on the cold water before collapsing. She now neither had the strength nor the lucidity to call the Shi'ar Warbird for help, or anyone else for that matter. In a very real sense, Miya was now a helpless prisoner of her body's exponentially increasing reactive instincts to either bond immediately with her Ashikabi, or die.

***scene break***

The copse of red oak and shag bark hickory trees that three quarters enclosed Logan's fire-pit didn't make him feel caged up at all. There was a nice, wide expanse of the estate's large lake and its small sandy beach in front of him. The lake's distant, tree lined far shore shadowed against the night sky also gave him a needed natural sense of freedom, or at least an escape route if somehow surprised from behind, especially by a sneaky and amorous Cuban teleporter.

Totally unaware of the gathering maelstrom of female trouble headed squarely for him, Logan smiled in relaxing serenity as he used a long hickory stick to poke the glowing red coals below the three propped up hot dog skewers that had his steaks sizzling on them. The skewers rested on forked branches jammed into the soft ground set back from the pit. Dripping fat hissed and caught flame here and there on the hickory wood coals as the meat grilled above them. Sparks and smoke swirled about in the light lake breeze. It was a feral loner's wilderness camping scene from heaven.

From his seat on a rough log bench a few steps from the fire, Logan reached out occasionally and gave the skewers a quarter turn before settling back, taking the half smoked, Ashton Heritage Puro Sol Belicoso No. 2 cigar out of his mouth, sipping on a Molson beer, and snacking on ruffled, sea salted potato chips. Once in a while he'd simply take out his smoke and look at it in pleased satisfaction after a puff or two. The fragrant cigar had a very pleasing balance of flavors with tangs of coffee, leather, and chocolate sweetness. Alone with the comforting and isolated wilderness type smells of the surrounding oak and hickory trees, their drying autumn leaves on the ground, a nice brisk, lake scented breeze, his fire's thin hickory smoke, grilling meat, beer, chips, and a good smoke, what more could a fella want?

Well, Logan cocked his head and looked out over the peaceful lake as he squinted his eyes, a fella might want to know how that pretty, lavender haired Miya Asama gal teleported here without registering on the Shi'ar perimeter defense scans. Exactly where she came from and why without simply having to take her suspect word for any of it. And why her appearance coincided with such a volatile time and situation where his ass was being hustled by the High Council all over the planet too much. Too many required meetings while also tracking and killing hard core mutant criminals, too many time consuming yet required reports, and now another unknown, unregistered, distracting, and potentially trouble making alien female all of a sudden cropping up? All way too coincidental in his mind.

A fella might also want to know how could a lousy little sonic boom from Carol Danver's drunken fly-by knock the whole damn security system offline so easily; a latest state of the art system with every known bell and whistle that had cost a fortune to install. Also, why had the autonomous and too damn expensive Sentinels and their independent systems supposedly set for intruder alert and automatic repelling not react at all in either case?

Then a fella might also question how a big gang of Moloids just happened to surface on Jessica and Danielle Cage's little section of New York the day before he had got there and might have killed them both if Jessica hadn't luckily went home early that day. Moloid activity had only been reported further north in Boston and farther south and west in Philadelphia and D.C., not in the Rotten Apple. So where had those subterranean cannibals come from?

Another thing an inquiring, and hadn't been consulted at all, type of guy might like to ask is why had the I.D.P. High Council unilaterally assigned a Witch Hunter to the House of L security team from the clandestine and largely unknown Seventh Sign organization? Especially since A, the House of L was a PRIVATE institution owned and operated by private funds over which the High Council supposedly had no jurisdiction or connection and wanted none, and B, said Witch Hunter was supposedly given discretionary termination powers over inmates while bypassing the entire "security risk evaluation" process. The High Council HAD to know Logan wasn't going to sit still for their blatantly intrusive move and very clumsy power grab as well as any total denial of basic inmate rights to life and due process of law. Unless they were trying to provoke him into doing something hasty and rebellious to get a publicly justified ion beam cutter around his own neck and a short trip down a fusion generator chute.

Or maybe with the imprisoned witches, vampires, and werewolves understandably incensed at the Witch Hunter's blatantly hostile assignment to guard/terminate them, the High Council was trying to provoke a riot and uprising among the House of L inmates. Maybe even one that couldn't be handled by Elektra's barely formed security team, say, ummm, like on the very first damn day of the inmates being transferred from the Raft Prison in San Francisco? Then the I.D.P. would be publicly justified in taking over, declaring all the mystic inmates to be "too high" security risks, and killing them on the spot. Maybe along with a few other trouble making aliens and potential rebels? All these questions taken together led up to a mighty interesting series of what ifs.

What if the security systems of the new House of L were being deliberately sabotaged or at least manipulated and weakened for the High Council's benefit? What if the High Council was keeping their ace assassin Logan too busy hunting down their enemies to do much about it? To keep the extra load off Logan, what was wrong with hiring Wade Wilson who would literally kill anyone or anything for peanuts, even elephants? Why hadn't they? Or had the High Council maybe actually hired Wilson to assassinate Logan while using the need for a job to get close? Wouldn't be the first time Deadpool Wade had turned on him like a wounded dog for a little money. Or for just being a total whacked out nut that was too far out there to ever truly be understood. But never, ever underestimated, especially with a potentially sabotaged security defense system.

Speaking of way out there, here was a thought. What if the Moloids, last known to be grouped up in Boston, weren't just surfacing out of their subterranean haunts willy nilly, but were being herded about with a purpose? Say, down towards New York, and maybe even eventually south to Westchester where sabotaged defenses wouldn't stop them from attacking in massive waves of flesh devouring hordes? And might those same flawed defenses also be easily breached by anonymous airborne assault teams of mutant hating humans bent on killing as many "high security threat" mutants and aliens as possible, Logan included, without a publicly "denying all knowledge" High Council being implicated?

Failing any of those nominally clandestine moves, what if the paranoid High Council just said screw it and sent in their own massive Sentinel robot army to wipe out as many potential mutant/alien/rebel headaches as they could in one fell swoop and deal with the possible public relations backlash later? Or for that matter, what if the boys just dropped a small negabomb and wiped out New York and a couple of other states around Westchester and later simply claim it had been the work of some desperate Shadowbox Empire holdouts? Or make it look like an unfortunate and accidental orbital launch and then just cry "Oops, my bad" like the Shi'ar had done to the Kree home-world capital decades earlier after the peace treaty had been signed?

Logan reached out and turned his steaks again, then sat back to take another puff on his cigar. Now a fella that trusted the High Council might think all that suspicious speculation was highly unlikely to happen, but a wolverine who knew the four slimy little political bastards and the seven out of twelve military leaders keeping them in power wouldn't. Nope. A very wary wolverine would get proactive and start hunting, for answers and even heads if need be. Where to start?

First, he'd dig into this oddball Miya Asama's background and story. Who and what she was really, and why in the hell had she come to him to help her in some unknown dimension when he had all the troubles he could handle right here. A hired High Council plant to foment trouble maybe? Saboteur? Spy? At least a paid distraction? Or another clumsy attempt to sidetrack him and his public popularity with another sexy and attractive gal so that he couldn't anticipate and organize a fight against an outright I.D.P. mass murder attempt here?

Well, Miya Asama wasn't all that much sexier or more attractive than any other of the dozens of females he had around him now and with even more coming. And there was something wrong in that lavender haired alien gal's head too. A cold hardness that couldn't be penetrated, only sensed. And why in the hell would someone with enough strength and power to kick Danver's world class ass want to work as a prep chef with Poison? Let alone eat a ritualistic "mind melding" enchilada with Ava'Dara? Was she trying to weasel into his Shi'ar lover's good graces for some unknown reason? Maybe? Or was this Miya in some kind of Logan assassination partnership with Wade Wilson? A fella ought to investigate all this unknown and self proclaimed Sekirei trouble stuff too, hadn't he? What if there were more of them lurking about and ready to join their leader to attack him and/or everyone he cared about?

Second, a wary guy would get his best computer mind in Sage hacking into the guts of the House of L security systems to find out what was wrong inside it, and doing it without alerting the High Council. Maybe the computer genius should also go after whatever she could glean out of the High Council's home data banks at the same time, particularly when it came to any kind of subversive, paramilitary, or even outright military plans to move against the good folk here in Westchester.

Third, getting a hold of, and on, that damn deadbeat Deadpool and kicking his ass again seemed like a good idea, even for just a little stress relief and general principles, but more for either getting the truth about Wade's relationship with the High Council out of the nut case, or just for the old saying of keeping your friends close and enemies closer to keep an eyeball on 'em.

Fourth, it might be a good idea to keep a few scouts out in the surrounding area, super ferals like his female clone X-23 and Wolfsbane that could sniff out from long distance any Moloid activity coming south from New York or north from Philadelphia and Baltimore. No reason they couldn't set up a paid informant network to keep an eye on any unusual I.D.P. military activity within fifty miles or so either. He needed help, and he had a lot of it sitting around the Jean Grey Academy not doing much; experienced former X-Force assassins needing a break from their boredom. It wouldn't be the first time Logan had formed a small undercover team of not too squeamish killers for his own use, backup, and insurance that was kept completely off everyone's snooping radar.

Also couldn't hurt to get Hank McCoy to pump his S.W.O.R.D. commander girlfriend Abigail Brand for any loose gossip amongst the higher up military types about plans to move against him, or at least patch his new X-Force into an orbital eye in the sky over Westchester without the High Council aware of it. They could purchase that equipment off the black market and even deploy small, recon flying drones of their own too.

Who else could he get to help Wolfsbane and X-23 in a secret new X-Force? But, ummm, they would have to be low profile, not a too well known and watched too closely like Storm, or Polaris, or Psylocke, but Karma the telepath had worked well with him years ago. Need some firepower. M? Maybe Boom-Boom, shape shifting E.V.A. for even more firepower and flight, and Cluster, dead Fantomex's clone for leadership. Could use a few more ninja, spy, stealth types for outlying scouts. Maybe Dani Moonstar, feral Iron Maiden, and one or two more. Wait, they'd especially need a few teleporters. Ones who didn't hate his guts. Ariel? Amanda Sefton? Okay, have to work on that.

Fifth, this Witch Hunter, whoever she was, needed to be dealt with somehow. That might be a little tricky. He wasn't ready to force an open and public confrontation with the High Council, yet he couldn't allow them to get their authoritative noses inside the House of L door any more than they already had. He needed more time, dammit. Time to force the High Council to conform to their own damn laws about mutant rights. He also needed more information about this Witch Hunter and her shadowy and relatively unknown Seventh Sign organization. Seraph and her investigative gals, especially ex-news reporter Melita Garner might...

A faint whiff of Mexican spices, aloe shampoo and hair conditioner, antibacterial soap, floral scented underarm deodorant, enchilada breath, and menstrual blood came to him. From upwind? No, from his left and behind through the trees. A young female that must have recently been in the Academy cafeteria and/or kitchen was coming toward him diagonally along the lake's rounded shoreline and trying to keep downwind, but she had made a mistake.

A few seconds later his ears picked up her slow and stealthy advance from his left rear quarter and almost to the inside edge of trees around his fire-pit's small clearing. There she stopped, waiting, watching. After seeming to glance down and behind him at his spare six pack of beer, then grab it and pull it forward, Logan idly turned his steaks again, settled back, and took a puff on his cigar before speaking without turning his head to look in her direction. His quick peek had spotted her body heat's infrared glow behind a large red oak about twenty paces away. Hadn't been a bad effort in stealth, just inadequate on an experienced feral mutant with super senses.

"If you're still hungry," he said softly, still without looking directly at her, "these steaks are almost done. Bag of ruffled potato chips here too. Or maybe you'd like a beer? With conversation?"

"How'd you know I was here?" Her low voice was more curious than anything, but was tinged with tones of hostility as well as professional admiration. It wasn't a voice he remembered. Slight Japanese accent to her English though.

"Wind through trees will swirl, eddy. Makes a downwind approach on a feral with super senses of smell and hearing pretty tricky. Smelled you first, Kid, then heard you, and you didn't hide your body heat either. Other than still being on your period, is there anything else you're unhappy about in general, or with me in particular?"

"Kid?" The young female gave a quick involuntary chuckle while moving, circling warily to his left front to see him better while keeping to the trees' shadows. "I don't think I've ever been one. A beer sounds good."

"Got a tough life story, huh?" Logan grunted neutrally as he flipped an unopened can slightly behind and above her to watch her snag it with ease. Excellent hands, good eyes, and quick coordination. Her dark outline had a sword handle sticking up diagonally over her right shoulder. Right handed sword fighter then.

"Seems to be a lot of them sad tales now days. Name's Logan if you didn't know. I got a little time here before I get company. What makes your sad story cross mine tonight? You got a reason for looking me up, right?"

"Uhhh, yeah?" Her response sounded a little nonplussed, but then hardened a little as she popped her beer can's tab and continued. "Not much of one though. Saw you leave out the back when I came late down the cafeteria hallway. Ate quick and left before dessert was served. Just wasn't going for that weird team building crap your feathered alien screw seemed to be pitching, neither was that strange looking lavender haired gal in the dark mini dress who left at the same time I did. We both weren't showing enough skin, I guess. Only came down here because I'm curious."

"Okay, I'm game. About what?" So, she had came late to dinner. Logan quickly went through the day's list of job security applicants and matched them up with who he had seen in the cafeteria. There had been two that hadn't been in there; Elsa Bloodstone, the immortal monster hunting daughter of Ulysses Bloodstone. She had been raised in England, and Logan had run into her a few years ago during the Dreaming Maiden caper. Huh. She was also a good possibility for his new X-Force now that he thought bout it. Damn deadly with a shotgun. The other missing applicant had been named Lady Bullseye, a Japanese assassin that had worked for the Hand under now deceased Wilson Fisk and an old enemy of Daredevil. All that really didn't count against her much in Logan's mind.

"Curious about what you got that throws Typhoid Mary into such a loop every time your name was mentioned?"

"You know Mary Walker, huh?" Logan returned casually. That did it. Lady Bullseye for sure. The very powerful mutant Typhoid Mary had also worked for Fisk against her former lover Daredevil, but she was now cooling her insane, male murdering heels in The Raft and awaiting all four of her multiple persona's internal madness in one body to be transferred to the House of L; her four personalities being the emotionless Walker, innocent and loving Mary, amorous slut Typhoid Mary, and the serial killing, male hating, violent Bloody Mary. Logan and she had both come out of the same Weapon X facility and shared a few adventures here and there a long time ago, sort of, as well as an occasional mattress.

So, Lady Bullseye, what had been her brief bio on the hiring list? Real name Maki Matsumoto, a teenage sex slave of the Japanese mafia called the Yakuza. Escaped her cage by killing a mob soldier and later recruited and trained to be a Hand assassin by Lord Hirochi. Transferred allegiance to Fisk upon his ascension to Hand leader. Long list of paid kills, all males. Out of work ever since Logan had killed her boss, but still a serial killing man hater that had somehow managed to stay off the High Council's "to be arrested and evaluated" list. She and Typhoid Mary must have had a lot in common and shared a lot of their past grievances against men, or in Logan's case, what Mary knew about him in the biblical sense. After a long pause, the female finally spoke.

"Yeah, I know her. The first time your name came up was when Typhoid was looking for ice cream in our apartment's refrigerator. All of a sudden she said she wanted strawberry which was Logan's favorite. Immediately she became Walker and started crying. I never saw that before. Then she turned into Bloody Mary and started swearing, but she was actually backing into a corner and sounded as if she really feared you. After a few seconds she turned into Typhoid and actually began masturbating and cooing to herself as if I wasn't even in the kitchen. That all repeated itself several times afterward until she was arrested just before the Shadowbox Wars started, and I've never seen her since. By the way, I've decided to take a pass on being a prison security guard for you, too confining, but I've always been curious. So, before I leave in the morning, tell me what you did to Typhoid Mary."

"Always treated her like a decent person, I guess," Logan shrugged while letting his eyes take in Lady Bullseye's shadowed visible and infrared outline. "Helped her out a few times. And always shared what I could with her, even my ice cream."

He surreptitiously punched a button on his 3D phone that had a few extra analytical goodies added to it by Hank McCoy's half alien girl friend. An app started to give him a quick electronic/magnetic field scan around the female in the trees. Nothing. Not wearing any electrical device or wire. He didn't feel any psychic vibes out of her, so not a telepath. Here on her own then. Okay. This gal was tall, slim, an experienced killer and stalker, good reflexes, trained sword fighter, and looked athletic. She had moved well in the woods and wasn't interested in being a prison guard or being on Ava'Dara's new nest protecting team, but still needed a place to stay out of the High Council's notice. Hello, another new X-Force recruit?

"Kid, since you obviously still need a job and a place to stay, but you don't want to be cooped up guarding prisoners, nor do you want to attract a lot of High Council attention as Lady Bullseye, would you be interested in joining a small team of scouts and outlying pickets here in Westchester to warn me of any impending attacks, organized or otherwise?"

"Attacks from who?"

"Mutant hating mobs, migrating or herded Moloids, I.D.P. paid infiltrators, hired para military mercenaries, maybe even an eventual, clandestine ground action from a High Council assault team."

"Can we kill them?" The interest in her voice was palpable.

"Ummm, I'm not choosy as long as none of you are endangered or caught, the bodies all disappear, and your team leader calls the play. Not going to sweat any cash you take from attackers either, but steal nothing that can be traced back here."

"Team leader? Other members?"

"Haven't set it up yet, but thinking about Cluster probably leading, Karma, Wolfsbane, X-23, Boom Boom, Moonstar, E.V.A., Iron Maiden, maybe Domino, you, possibly Elsa Bloodstone, and at least one or more teleporters like Ariel, Amanda Sefton, or even Earth 616 Blink. I just need results and enough warning time to organize a defense with our big hitters like Storm, Rogue, and Rachel Grey. Gonna give Cluster plenty of leeway for who she wants and how she wants to operate."

"Uhhh, good, heard of all of them, experienced, a few really good killers, especially X-23." Her voice tone now had a pleased, almost low feral growl. "Cluster's a great thief too. I like it. What's the pay beyond what we steal and plunder?"

"Free room and board," Logan smiled slightly, almost wishing he could join the team like in the good old days. "100 credits a week listed as an Academy prep cook under your given name. I'll get the ball rolling in the morning. Just go through the motions of a security recruit for now, but no ritualistic meal bonding with me or anyone else will be needed. I can understand your hatred and distrust of males from your past, which quite frankly wasn't as bad as Typhoid Mary's troubles. But keep in mind that maybe all guys aren't rotten bastards, and don't sell Ava'Dara short as far as remaining on good terms with her as my lover. She's a Royal Warbird, Deathbringer Class from the Shi'ar Imperium. You might want to look into what that really means before you call her my feathered alien screw to her face. Or watch her in action. Just a friendly warning. Steaks done if you want one."

A long silence followed as Logan nonchalantly pulled two steaks back from the smoking red coals yet kept them close enough to stay warm. After chucking his now small cigar stub into the hot coals and taking a swig of beer, he began eating the third, seemingly ignoring the female Japanese assassin in the trees as she thought his last comment over. Suddenly, there was the sound of a body thumping hard into a solid object accompanied by an OOF! as the breath was knocked out of Lady Bullseye.

"Senor Logan! Mi maestro!" Poison's angry shout came from somewhere above the tree tops. "Ees thees puta try to harm mi amor? Why she hide, eh? I pull out the eyes an' chop off su puta feengers and tongue! I take her very, very high an' drops..."

"Hey! CeeCee! No!" Logan stood up in alarm. "We're just talking! Come down here dammit! And don't hurt her!"

"Hokay," Poison's somewhat mollified return was accompanied by Lady Bullseye being drug out of the trees while floating helplessly in the air, arms and legs locked rigidly in place by telekinesis. The Japanese ninja hovered before Logan with her dark eyes flashing in extreme anger past her black face mask that featured two outer rings and an inner black dot target in the middle of her forehead. The rest of her stiff athletic body was sheathed in a full, black spandex body suit. Seconds later, wearing a full length, dark red cloak that wafted about her still scantily clad body from the breeze coming off the lake, Poison descended.

"CeeCee," Logan began soothingly as he sat back down. He tried to appear calm by using his teeth to rip a small bite of grilled meat and then talking while chewing. "This is Lady Bullseye, uhhh, Miss Maki Matsumoto. She is going to be working for me as part of a scouting team to warn us before trouble hits. She's also going to be listed on the payroll as one of your prep cooks, so take care of her for me, please?"

"Porque? She no like mi cocina, ehhh, mi cooking!" Poison sneered in female contempt. "Eat and run like un cerdito, uh, uh, a piglet! No jello too! Then sneaks around mi hombre? I say NO!"

"Baby," Logan tried again with a low guttural growl of warning, "calm down or no nookie for you tonight, got it? Now set her down! And be nice!"

"Awww uh," Poison instantly pouted as she moved quickly to sit beside him and possessively wrap her arms around his massive chest. However, she turned her head back to give the now freed and standing Lady Bullseye a look of pure venom. "Hey, you! You ever try hurt mi maestro, I squish you like a very bad tomato, eh? Or I make your insides very, very seeck, seeck, seeck!"

With that threat and from ribs being telekinetically squeezed hard, a loud and long groan/gargle came from the Japanese assassin as Poison emphasized her ability to easily do as threatened. That ceased before Logan could react, to leave Lady Bullseye panting weakly on the ground, turned away from the fire, and then suddenly barfing up her hastily eaten enchilada dinner and half finished beer.

"Come on CeeCee, ease up will ya?" Logan pleaded this time. Damn! Sometimes dealing with his too temperamental cook with her incredible psychic powers was worse than dealing with his too aggressive and socially challenged Warbird!

"Hokay, just so this one know, she no can hurt mi maestro. Ummm, besame, mi amor, besame mucho."

"Hey, I'm still hungry. Eat now, kisses later," Logan leaned away to take another bite of his steak in self defense. She settled for nibbling on and licking his left ear. "Enjoy the fire and the night with me, Babe. Have a beer. We'll head for the cabin after I finish and smoke another cigar."

"Throw me another can of beer," Lady Bullseye demanded while glaring warily at her tormentor. "I need to rinse my mouth out! And what the hell? I wasn't threatening your damn boyfriend! Nor do I want to screw him! Sex is DIRTY!"

"Oh! Si! Si! Very dirty cuando se hace bien, ehh, umm, when done right!" Poison agreed happily, amorously rubbing her hands over Logan's chest and back which were still covered in his black and red leather fighting suit. "Y mi Logan, mi alma gamela, he does it right todo la noche! Yo soy su esclava sexual!"

"With powers like yours, you're his sex slave? And he's your soul mate? And Ava'Dara's too?" Lady Bullseye frowned in puzzled disbelief and then turned her eyes to stare at Logan briefly before taking a big gulp of beer, swishing it around in her mouth, and then spitting it carefully sideways so as not to anger Poison in any fashion. There was no future in provoking a very powerful and definitely touchy Queen Bee that sported a huge set of proven lethal stingers and was instantly willing to use them. And Poison had very definitely demonstrated she was a top Queen among Queen Bees.

"Si, Ava'Dara tambien," Poison shrugged her shoulders philosophically at having to share the man in her life. "Mi maestro no able to love us now, ummm, heartbreaks y muy triste, ummm, very sad, but one day, un dia glorioso, la Dama Verde heal him for us."

"The Green Lady?" Logan gave Poison a skeptical, raised eyebrow look as he finished his first steak, laid down the empty hotdog skewer, and reached for another. "You been talking to Dani Cage again?"

"Un poco," Poison nodded, smiling back in half lidded and semi, self aroused anticipation. She began humming an old classic Spanish song entitled "Besame Mucho" as she resumed her amorous caressing, nibbling, and smooching on her new master.

"Great," Logan sighed in resignation while shaking his head. The insanity just kept on coming. "Did anyone try to call me? Is Ava upset?"

"Oh Si! Ava MUY upset!" Poison smiled in total unconcern, leaning her head on his left shoulder and shifting a little for more cuddling comfort, "but I tells her, ehhh, ehhh, whats you say. She say hokay. Una Raft chica phones you. I tells her you busy with Ava's meal. She calls you mañana."

"Good enough," Logan grunted in relief. Maybe he could get a little peace and quiet later. He took a big breath and relaxed, letting the natural tranquility of the lake, trees, and fire seep into his tired muscles and worried mind. One thing still niggled at him though.

"Where is Verre and the gang? How come they weren't helping you with dinner?"

"No lo se," Poison shrugged expressively. "I no sees dem chicas todo el dia. I thinks dey sneaks into your bed, eh? Ifs dey do, den I makes dem seeck, seeck..."

"No, no, hold off on the ptomaine treatment," Logan winced in future sympathy for the four missing kitchen helpers. "I haven't see them all day either. And starting to get a little worried about them, that's all."

"Grupo de barrachos y putas sin valor," Poison muttered disdainfully while thinking the four deadbeats were probably sleeping off another all night bender like the bunch of worthless drunks and party hardy sluts they were.

Logan shrugged too. He wasn't anybody's nursemaid, nor their babysitters, still, it wasn't like Tanya Sealy aka Black Mamba to ever miss a free meal. She had grown up in the Chicago slums where food had been hard to come by, and she had made it a point to keep a few extra groceries on hand even when she had started making money as a teenaged call girl. After she had been surgically altered with a cerebral implant to become a pretty potent telepath and dark force manipulator on the Serpent Squad, she had still kept a full pantry.

Her best pal Rachel Leighton had run away from Texas and been a teen member of the New York street gang the Savage Crims led by a young Crossbones before she had become Diamondback. Her hard times living hand to mouth then and the subsequent up and downs of being a small time criminal had made her very appreciative of her soft landing at the Jean Grey Academy. Her missing all day was pretty strange.

Cleopatra Nefertiti had been born a true mutant in Tanta, Egypt, a gal who could generate paralyzing and even fatal bio-energy blasts when her mutation developed during puberty. Life in a country that didn't tolerate mutants at all had left her a fleeing teen fugitive that had almost starved before reaching Canada. She too loved regular meals, especially since she needed fuel to vigorously belly dance and work up enough internal energy to throw her venom bolts. Although Logan didn't know it and her real secret be known, Asp had fallen hard for Logan after one particularly energetic Thursday night from her winning/cheating BIG at five card stud. He had just thought those ongoing energy surges during multiple climaxes from Cleo in the bedroom later had simply been a new twist to the kinky and interesting term of "electric sex."

Verre was an enigma as always, but Logan couldn't see her violating her terms of parole and risk being tossed back into prison. Neither could he fathom the other three B.A.D. Girls putting their cushy jobs and unspoken protection from the High Council at risk, let alone getting on Poison's bad side and risk being made gut wrenching sick for who knew how long. Logan shrugged again and let his semi "worried about them" mind relax. They'd probably turn up soon, after all they had never missed a Thursday night since the stud poker, popcorn, and beer parties had begun many months ago.

A few minutes later, a half snarling Ava'Dara came leaping over the peaceful trees to land in front of him, still bikini clad, wearing two swords strapped to her back, and her white eyes flashing in accusatory anger. Before she could utter a word Logan held up his right hand in a stop motion and gave her a hard feral growl with his fangs bared. She flinched backward slightly and began frowning in silent, wounded disappointment.

"Next time you want to plan something like that screwy dinner, we talk more first, and I understand EXACTLY what you're doing. No more spur of the moment shit Ava. No ritual kill, mind melding, or whatever. Otherwise you and me are going to tangle. I don't like surprises. And I'm a one gal, one guy type at night. Got it? We've got too much trouble and too little time to prepare for it without dumping more crap on ourselves. You're a helluva fighter Ava, and I'd rather have you fighting with me, not at cross purposes, but I can fight alone if you need something I can't give you right now."

"I fights with you, mi amor," Poison whispered softly in his ear before Ava'Dara could answer. She emphasized her statement with a suggestive wiggle of her large mammary assets against him to indicate she would rather snuggle than struggle though.

"I am YOURS, my Lord!" The Warbird exclaimed in shuddering horror. "I fight when you fight! I protect you! I SERVE you! I, I want to learn how to LOVE you! And I don't even know how to kiss you!"

"Ha!" Poison looked over the fire with pity at the nearly naked yet armed Shi'ar. "Ees muy fácil! Ehhh, easy! You gives! And I weel teaches you the kisses!"

"Ava, dammit," Logan relented and sighed at the total hurt in her eyes. He reached out his right hand, beckoning her closer and finally pulling her onto his lap when she moved to him. He looked at Lady Bullseye with raised eyebrows.

"Kid, could you maybe give us a few minutes to chat here? But don't leave because I want to talk to you some more."

"Sure." The pretty Japanese ninja nodded while standing up to go for a little promenade on the nearby beach. She looked back over her shoulder to see if he was watching her spandex revealing, nicely rounded, and more than usual swaying backside as she strolled away. He wasn't.

"Ava," Logan began calmly after the sexy black clad ninja had moved out of hearing. "I'm happy with you. I don't want and don't need some damn harem of female ninjas and witches crawling all over my mattress. Don't have the time nor the inclination. I ain't sure what your ancestral nest gig is all about, but for now we got bigger problems. I'm pretty sure the High Council is making a move against us, or at least I want to make sure and be prepared."

"Will you," Ava'Dara paused to give Poison a pleading look to back her up, "will you let Cecillia be part of our nest, for now? I NEED a strong partner to, to help me serve and protect you better!"

"Ummm," Poison nodded amorously while nuzzling against Logan anew, "Si! I serves mi maestro! Toda la noche!"

"Okay, okay," Logan sighed again while shaking his head in defeat. There was no way he was not going to keep his promise to Poison, or else he'd wind up rotten tomato crushed and seeck, seeck, seeck, and he sure didn't have time for that. Besides, she was already a regular Thursday poker night poke. And earlier he HAD told Ava she could call his lake cabin a nest. Dammit.

"Look, Ava, what I need right now is a new X-Force, a computer genius, and Melita Garner. In the morning I want you to talk to Cluster and Sage, separately and in private. Say nothing to anyone else in the Academy. I want Cluster to lead an outlying perimeter defensive and scouting team with maybe Domino, Laura, Rahne, Monet, Boom Boom, Dani Moonstar, E.V.A., Elsa Bloodstone, Iron Maiden, Lady Bullseye over there, and a couple of teleporters like Ariel and Sefton. Blindfold's precognitive powers would be a great help too."

"I teleports for you, mi amante," Poison nibbled on his neck. "Make tacos, teleports out and back, eats tacos. Ees no lo problemo."

Logan leaned away to look at her while frowning. Now why hadn't he even thought of her as part of his new force? One of the more powerful teleporting mutants he knew? On cue Poison could make a battalion of attacking troops continuously barf their guts out and become too sick to fight too. And she made damn good tacos. Man, he must be more tired than he felt.

"Yeah, thanks, CeeCee, I appreciate that," he leaned back in and hugged her with his left arm around her waist giving a downward peek at her very interesting and warm bosom. Huh. The assets a fella could find right under his nose if he just had the brains to look.

"Ava, tell Sage I need her to look for I.D.P. back doors and sabotage in our new security system's computers. She needs to do it on the sneak without involving anyone else, especially Kitty Pryde. I don't want Kitty or the Academy staff involved because they're too high profile and already under heavy I.D.P. scrutiny. Also see if Tessa can hack the High Council data bases without getting caught. I'm looking for anything that might indicate troop or asset movements or any other kind of black ops against us here. Then find and talk to Melita Garner as soon as you can. Ask her to research the Seventh Sign organization and their Witch Hunter. I want as much background on both as she can give me. And on this newcomer Miya Asama right away as well. There's something about her that feels weird."

"My Lord!" The Warbird rustled her head feathers by vigorously shaking her head. "Miya is like an Exalted Warbird of Antiquity! VERY Powerful! We NEED her in our nest too!"

"Uh uh. Not until I know more about her," Logan replied firmly. "And maybe not even then if she keeps that weird feel in her head. Also, in the morning I want you to cancel that afternoon meeting and draft a formal resignation letter to Headmistress Kitty Pryde and Leader Janet Van Dyne for both the Avengers and the Jean Grey Academy. Something with due to mounting extra duties for the I.D.P. and the House of L, resignation effective immediately, all current financial and legal support will remain in place, and my personal belongings in both the Academy and Avenger's Mansion to be moved here to my cabin. Keep it short and to the point because I want a formal legal copy in case the High Council demands one. The idea is I want to put and sustain as much space between me and the Academy staff and Avengers as I can get to keep them out of my High Council troubles. Otherwise they'll get hurt badly later. Understand?"

"Affirmative," Ava nodded while frowning slightly. "But I'm don't think that letter is going to be received too well in either place. Nor canceling that Academy staff meeting."

"Can't be helped," Logan grimaced while shrugging. He couldn't worry about hurting the feelings of a bunch of already pissed off Avenger and X-Women females that more or less had treated him almost like a pariah since he'd returned from the wars. They could just curse him and/or comfort each other if his resignation would really bother them that much, which he didn't believe it really would. He hadn't been around much lately anyhow, nor had they acted like they had wanted him to be.

"The Academy doesn't need me to teach classes or hold their hands while they sit around and bitch about the way the I.D.P. is doing things. And comfort each other. Neither do the Avengers since the I.D.P. rarely calls them to do anything. I got better uses for my time, and those gals can just comfort each other too. Anyway, since I've promised tonight to CeeCee, I've got a most important Royal Warbird that needs more kisses tomorrow afternoon, not another damn meeting."

"My Lord," Ava'Dara's normally impassive face went instantly soft. Her tensed body seemed to just melt against him as he simply held her for a brief time and then returned to eating his steak and potato chips. Poison just shifted a little to accommodate her new nest mate's position without releasing her snuggling and amorous hold on Logan. Later, moving to sit on his free side after some long nuzzling on Logan's neck, Ava'Dara imitated the Cuban mutant. For the next few minutes the two endowed and bikini clad females then took turns holding his beer and the bag of chips while he finished his meat. Sweet domestic peace had returned to the tree and lake lined fire site.

Surprisingly with no further interruptions, the next hour or so was spent just drinking beer and amiably chatting and enjoying the fire once Logan had tossed on a few bigger pieces of firewood. Lady Bullseye finally returned on her own and squatted comfortably on the other side of the fire, eating the third steak to fill her now empty and settled stomach, sharing Logan's potato chips, and quizzing him for more details about his relationship with the serial killer Typhoid Mary. Then once learning about Poison's past hatred of all males, the Japanese ninja very adeptly encouraged Poison to share her rather lurid and man hating history and what Logan had done to change it. Then she inquired into Ava'Dara's alien past and current relationship to him. Logan sat puffing away on another cigar, sipping several beers and simply relaxing while the three females talked. Lost in his own thoughts, he totally ignored Lady Bullseye's occasional contemplative glances at him as the fragrant fire peacefully popped and crackled and sent glowing sparks and swirling smoke upward.

Logan's uninterested behavior wasn't because he found the beautiful Japanese ninja unattractive. What she and his other two companions didn't know was that Logan had been mentally reviewing the possible positive outcomes if he were to simply assassinate the High Council and their supporting military leaders. True, even if successful, there would be an immediate and lethal public backlash against him that no amount of his current hero status would abate. History was full of similar incidents and results. The assassins almost always died themselves, yet societal change had been made, sometimes even positive. So if he was going to die soon anyway, maybe it was worth doing a little feasibility study for better inter dimensional rule. As things stood, he was already mostly convinced that he had a gigantic looming fight with the High Council and their mutant hating troops in the near future. For those reasons alone he just didn't have the time nor inclination to now pursue a new amorous relationship with any female, let alone multiples from some damn meal melding dinner.

Naturally, Logan had no idea that the effects of Ava'Dara's hot dinner had already generated several mutually hating, competitive, and distrustful sects to toss any potential societal changing assassination attacks into the shitter before he had even started to implement any of them. The Raft prison now had new, mutually exclusive, and substantial competing plots to win their freedom by the imprisoned witches led by Logan's ex mutant teammate Magik, the ferals led by Remus, Hepzibah and Deathbird's alien group, vampires led by Alyssa, and Jubilee's newly forming unit of prison outcasts and loners. There was also a small freedom plotting cadre of criminally insane yet functional mutant inmates in the nut wing that included Aurora, White Rabbit, Vertigo, Viper, Shriek, Bouncing Betty, Fer de Lance, Miss Sinister, Nuwa, Unuscione, Forget-Me-Not, Callisto, the Hood revived Letha, Chimera, both telepathic Wyngarde sisters, Poundcakes, and their nominal leader, Logan's ex-lover, Typhoid Mary.

The Avengers were rapidly becoming two groups now arguing on the best way to save Logan from himself; those led by the Scarlet Witch and Clea who simply wanted to join Ava'Dara's Ancestral Nest, and those following the Wasp that wanted to just demand Logan separate himself from all distractions outside of his Avenger duties. Their arguing got pretty nasty and heated due to old jealousies, dislikes, and ongoing depression fueled by the deaths of Captain America, Iron Man, Hawkeye, and their other dead male Avenger teammates. Likewise the still grieving X-Women at the Jean Grey Academy were dividing along lines of the older versus younger groups. The older wanted Logan to exclusively be the school's headmaster and combat instructor, and the younger advocated to just let Logan be Logan and do his own thing. He always had in the past and it had more or less worked out, right? If he wanted Ava'Dara and whoever for his full time lovers and maybe even a few of them too if he desired, then it was all good, except, well, the older mutants didn't like their too laid back attitude at all.

Logan also had no idea his plans for a secret new X-Force might form another competing sect to disrupt his planning. Even the one disruption he knew about, the singular Witch Hunter from the Seventh Sign, well, he had NO idea just how distracting she could potentially be either, nor of other inter dimensional distractions he didn't know about that already had him targeted. And last but probably the most problematic in the near future, Ava'Dara had NOT given up forming their new Ancestral Nest, and she already had one confirmed nest mate in Poison. Now she was gunning full out for another. She was VERY determined to add the avian goddess Miya Asama to his nest too, but now was not the time to press her Lord. Better to wait until she could maybe get more help to serve him like he deserved. But who could she get that he might at least grudgingly if not readily accept as a new nest mate with her and Poison? Poison of course was her own unique problemo, one simply gauging his immediate mood to time her abduction of him for some immediate love making, and setting the precedent in the back of her mind to snatch her master away for making big nookie and cookies any time she needed a few.

Sinking into a comfortable four way silence of their own separate thoughts, it wasn't long before the last beer was finished, the coals in the fire-pit were barely glowing a very dull red, and the damp night breeze off the lake began feeling chillier. Poison suddenly announced that she had politely waited long enough, promptly teleported herself and Logan into his lake cabin's bedroom, and got down to some hot, naked, and not to be denied nookie making. Ava'Dara gave a sigh of resignation and told Lady Bullseye that she would accompany her back to the now darkened and locked down Academy, use a security key for both of them to gain entrance, and retire to their separate dorm rooms. Hopefully, Ava thought to herself, Miya Asama might still be awake and willing to chat about how she could reduce whatever was within her mind that was making their Lord Logan so wary of her.

Lady Bullseye kept wondering about her new boss as she strode back up the hill towards her fourth floor bed. What was Logan's ability to influence in a positive fashion the emotional outlook of such powerful psychic mutants and insane man haters like Typhoid Mary and his cook Cecillia Cardinale? And especially the very emotionally stunted alien Ava'Dara? Naturally, that led to another internal question of "would he be able to do something positive for the festering dark hatred of men in Lady Bullseye's soul?"

Admitting to herself that she was actually envious of Poison's obvious happiness and romantic contentedness, Lady Bullseye also wondered about Poison's last reply to the question why, with the way she had been so badly mistreated in the past, had she now wanted to become any man's willing prisoner of love in her heart and then also throw away the key? In response, the powerful Cuban mutant had tried to quote an old saying for how one goes about choosing the way one wants to live, but couldn't find the right English words to express herself clearly.

Muttering about another choice for living while staring morosely up at the night sky and still unaware of the female firestorm headed for him, Logan had then softly quoted another old saying that had left Lady Bullseye frowning in self introspection, something about everyone is serving a life sentence in the dungeon of self.

As she and Ava'Dara approached the patio entrance door of the Academy's library, both female warriors were unaware of a third sword carrying, long haired female wearing a long dark cloak and curiously watching them while kneeling on the roof above.

Lady Bullseye turned to look back over her shoulder while being unwittingly scrutinized. Logan's cabin was dark and mostly hidden by the trees, but at the far end of the lake the almost completed House of L was lit up with bright construction lights for third shift workers. Those lights cast long reflections on the lake waters as if they were some giant's reaching fingers that were beckoning for her to become his House's willing prisoner. She shook her head. Logan seemed to be a pretty good guy after all, but there was no way she would ever willingly work in his damn jail. It unhappily looked like an eerie and futuristic caricature of some old, cold, stone walled, iron barred prison from centuries past, with apologies to some old dead bard of course.


End file.
